The Tie that Binds
by LaraLee88
Summary: In the end, it is up to you to decide who is worth the suffering. (Story now complete.)
1. The Proposal

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

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Chapter One

**The Proposal**

A loud crack echoed down a narrow, littered street. To any Muggle, the sound was caused by the massive storm brewing overhead. The real reason, however, was Apparation. There, at the end of a rain drenched street in Cokeworth, stood a woman who was obviously out-of-place. Hermione Granger regarded the tiny township and was not impressed in the least. Cokeworth was an industrial town— or rather had been in its prime. Now, Cokeworth was a town of run down red brick and broken people. The brick covering the identical rows of houses actually looked black, but this was due in part to the vast number of tall chimneys that spewed ash and smoke over the years.

"Disgusting," she muttered aloud.

Pulling her coat around her to block out the rather intrusive and unseasonal chill of August, Hermione turned her gaze upwards. A grey, misty drizzle hung in the air, washing the color from everything it touched. It was drab. It was bleak. It was downright depressing when one took a minute to actually pay it some thought. Had it not been for the thick snake-like wisps of smoke permeating from the last remaining inhabited homes, she would have pegged this place as a bona fide ghost town.

A loud clap of thunder brought her back to the reason for being in such a deplorable place in the first place. Retrieving a neatly folded sheet of parchment from her coat, Hermione opened it to examine the address. She was looking for the last house on a street called Spinner's End. She was looking for his house. Stuffing the parchment back in her pocket, she pulled up her hood and took off down the deserted streets.

She was all but swallowed up by the rubbish-strewn streets. She reasoned that if someone wasn't familiar with this township they could easily get lost in the monotony of it all. Cokeworth was a town of similarities. Each house she passed looked identical to the one before it and the one that came after it. The only building different from all the rest was the old textile mill that stood ominously some distance away. That must have been how Spinner's End received its name. Hermione had done a bit of research prior to her unannounced visit. She knew, at one point, that Spinner's End had been a respectable neighborhood, full of respectable people trying to make a respectable living. Somewhere along the way, however, the textile mill left the area for greener pastures and the respectable working people followed. Those left were simply unlucky by circumstance or were of the unsavory variety that could not have cared less about anything, least of all bettering their situation. The Muggle term for those sorts of people was either a deadbeat or a bum. Regardless of what they called themselves, that was all that was left in this town.

As she continued her walk, Hermione eventually found herself walking along a river's edge. The recent rainfall seemed to have kicked up the stench from the waterway and amplified it by ten. It was a repulsive, rancid smell—almost like milk that had been left out to warm and coagulate in the hot summer sun. She brought her gloved hand to her nose in an attempt to keep the sour odor at bay, eventually resorting to breathing through her mouth to find relief. The fact that Severus Snape lived in such a place was a hard pill to swallow. She was not sure why he lived at Spinner's End because he had been given a hefty sum of money from the Ministry of Magic for his heroic service during the Second Wizarding War. He could certainly afford better, so the reason must lie with some deep-seated emotional attachment to the area. Hermione made a mental note to bring it up, if he agreed to her proposal.

Hermione spotted his house at the end of the street. Smoke rose up from the chimney, indicating he was home. Gathering her courage, she started down the dirty street. She stopped directly in front of the walk leading up to his door, noticing his house was one of the nicer ones. That really only meant the yard was not overgrown and the windows were not boarded over. His house was the same dirty black-red color as the ones surrounding it. Some of the singles were missing and the windows could do with a good washing, both inside and out. Taking a final deep breath, Hermione walked up the pavement, dodging the puddles of water that had pooled in the cracks. Reaching the door, she extended her hand and rapped on the door a few times for good measure. Almost instantly, the dingy curtains covering the equally grimy window swayed slightly. Hermione could not see in the darkened window, but she knew he could see her just fine. Seconds later, the door opened with a pitiful groan, revealing Severus Snape in all of his glory.

She had not seen the man in nearly fourteen years, but he had not aged a day. In fact, he looked considerably better than Hermione could ever remember him from her days at Hogwarts. His complexion was still pallid but his features weren't nearly as sharp. He had not gone soft by any stretch of the imagination but he seemed to carry himself a bit differently. Perhaps it was the lack of his familiar teaching robes or the dark slacks and white button down oxford he was wearing, or it might have been the fact he was in his sock feet with just the slightest hint of a five o'clock shadow. Whatever the case, he seemed different, almost approachable. Regrettably, that notion died nearly as soon as it was born when he opened his mouth.

"Are you going to stand there gawking like a fool, or are you going to tell me why you have decided to disrupt my afternoon?"

Hermione's mouth shut with an audible snap. She would not let him get the upper hand. "I'm here to speak to you."

Severus only raised an eyebrow in response. "I gathered that much, Miss Granger. What, pray tell, do you wish to discuss with me?" Severus regarded the woman standing outside in the rain as he waited for her reply. The Gryffindor swot had grown into her hair, or she had finally managed to tame the beast atop her head. She was still slim, but definitely a woman—though not the woman he had expected her to be. No, if someone would have asked him to describe Hermione Granger fourteen years after the war he would have said she would have had a redheaded Weasley spawn attached to each ankle and one on each hip. Oddly enough, she had curves, but not the curves of someone who had mothered children. Her curves were the curves of a mature woman—the sort of soft yet firm lines that had the potential to govern men should the beholder choose to be sovereign that is. As his eyes traveled up her body, he was amused by her expression. After all these years, he had not lost his touch. A single look had the ability to maim a thought before it could even be considered a thought. Severus smiled inwardly at that idea, though his face gave away no such thrill.

"Yes, well," she managed to grind out under his intense scrutiny, "it is about the letters Minerva sent you; the ones requesting your presence at Hogwarts."

"You mean the letters she wrote asking me to return as a Deputy Headmaster and Potions Professor? Surely the Headmistress is not so daft as to think my lack of response merits a visit from one of her professors? Read my lips, Miss Granger: I do not want to and am not going to go back to Hogwarts. If that is all you want, I bid you a pleasant day."

Snape made to shut the door in her face, but Hermione stuck her foot in the way just in time. "Minerva is ill!"

That seemed to get his attention. Hermione noticed his features take on a sudden look of concern. It did not last long. Before she could blink his face morphed back to its usual expressionless, emotionless pose. "if that is the case, I offer my condolences to the Headmistress. If we are finished here, might I suggest you remove your foot from my stoop before you force me to smash it off? I am in no mood to clean up a mess."

"You will listen to what I have to say Severus Snape, because Minerva McGonagall's life depends on it. Now, might I suggest you let me in before I take your front door off its hinges? You would have a rather large mess to clean up then."

The two of them exchanged glares for some time before Severus finally pulled the door open once more. He gestured for her to come in, though Hermione could tell his exaggerated gentlemanly motion was really meant to mock. As soon as she entered his cramped sitting room Hermione noticed that Severus Snape was not a house cleaner. She secretly wondered if he had forgotten he was a wizard given the general untidiness of his home. There were spells for such things after all. Books of all sizes lined two of the four walls with no particular rhyme or reason for their spots on the shelves. Hermione had to shove her hands in her pockets to keep from organizing them with a single, well placed spell. Several empty inkwells and their respective quills were strewn about on various surfaces as well as the floor. She noticed an old leather wingback chair sitting in the corner with sheets of parchment tucked into its cushions. _That __must be__ where he roosts_, she thought to herself.

"What exactly do you want me to do, Miss Granger? I am not a Healer and what little experience I have with healing charms and spells would be vastly inadequate to someone who has received formal training."

"I know you're not a Healer," she said as she sat down in his chair. This rewarded her with a frigid glare from her ungracious host. "That's why I'm here. I have been told Minerva is beyond a Healer's touch."

"Are you out of your mind?" Severus demanded, folding his arms over his chest.

Hermione laughed uneasily. "No, I can assure you all of my mental facilities are up to par. I am here because I am desperate. I am here because you are a last resort. I need your help, Professor."

"I am not a professor," he corrected sharply, "so if you would please refrain from using such a title."

"Of course, sir. Pardon me. As I was saying, I need your help… " she trailed off sheepishly, remembering how he hated when someone stated the obvious more than once.

"Yes, you mentioned something about the Headmistress being ill. I fail to see how I can help you in that regard."

"I need someone with a keen eye. Someone who can pick up on the details others fail to notice. The fact you are a Potions Master is an added bonus, as your brewing skills will be necessary."

"I still have no idea what you are asking me to do." Severus said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Do you truly not know yourself, or are you employing some sort of delusional, underhanded tactic in an attempt to sway me? Out with it woman. Why are you here?"

Hermione was silent for a few moments as she pondered his statement. Minerva would be furious if she knew what her Transfiguration Mistress was up to. Then again, Hermione reasoned Minerva was not exactly herself these days given her condition. Regardless of the Headmistress's opinion of the matter, she knew Severus Snape was not a man to keep in the dark. Hermione knew if she was going to get him to agree to what needed to be done, she would have tell him outright what she wanted from him. "Fine. I am here because I want you to help me make her better. I want you to help me determine who or what has brought her to such a state."

Severus propped himself up against the wall, examining his finely trimmed nails in an attempt to seem uninterested in her request. Truth be told, he was biting at the bit to know exactly what the problem was. "What, exactly, is her current state?"

"Her magic is failing her," Hermione said, a noticeable quiver in her voice. "Are you aware of what happens when magic leaves the body?"

"I have heard of the theories, yes. When magic leaves the body, it takes pieces of the person's soul with it. When the magic is gone, all that will remain of the person is a shell."

Hermione nodded faintly. "It is an agonizing end for someone to endure. The person will eventually cease to exist in the world. The physical body will continue to function until the organs fail, as it will be in a complete vegetative state, kept alive by the magic of others. I never knew such a thing could happen. I have only been able to find evidence of two such cases since the records have been kept. Minerva is one of them. The other was a fourteenth century wizard by the name of Fendrel Rowntree. Specialists of medieval magic have little to no explanation. The condition doesn't even have a name. Which leads me to believe it isn't a condition at all but rather—"

"Let me guess," Severus added. "Some sort of Dark magic?"

"Yes. But I can't—"

"Find any such curse, hex, jinx or Dark spell that will yield such results?"

Snape's interrupting was starting to irritate her, but she tried to ignore it. She knew first-years with better manners. "Right, "Hermione said as politely as she could manage. " I can't find anything, but perhaps someone else could…"

Suddenly, everything clicked; the reason Hermione Granger was here, the reason she had come to call on him after absolutely no contact for the past fourteen years. Severus already knew her response but he asked regardless. If she said it aloud he would have a reason to throw her out. "What makes you think I would have any idea?" He noticed Hermione glance at the trace of the Dark Mark covering his exposed forearm. There it is, he thought. Instinctively, Snape moved his arm behind his back to shield the symbol of his past transgressions from her gaze. "You thought I would know given my sordid past?" he asked, the agitation now readily apparent in his tone.

"I wouldn't have worded it that way, but yes. You have experience with the Dark Arts."

"What you are suggesting is absolutely ludicrous. A witch or wizard's magic tends to falter slightly with old age."

"I'm well aware of that, but remember Minerva will turn seventy-seven in October. She has a lot of life ahead of her. Disruptions in magic tend to come in the very late stages of a wizard's life. Dumbledore was one hundred-fifteen at the time of his… death. From what Harry has told me of his last few hours, he was still very powerful and in control of his magic."

"Each witch and wizard is different. A person's magical signature is just as individual as the prints on his or her fingertips." Hermione rubbed her hands over her face. This was not going the way she wanted at all.

"I don't know how else to do this," she said aloud to herself.

"I'm not surprised," he said with a sneer.

Hermione refused to rise to his bait. She knew the best way to handle Severus Snape would be to ignore his jabs no matter how much she wanted to hex him into the coming week for being such a selfish arse. Realizing she was nearing the end of her arsenal, Hermione decided to go to the last resort. She would put the ball firmly in his court. He could not refuse her then.

Hermione removed a small box from her pocket—her secret weapon. She sat it on the table in front of Snape, opening it to reveal an ornately designed inkwell. It glistened with a certain familiarity Severus could not place as she spoke. "This is a Portkey. As you no longer have access to the castle, I thought this would be best. It will take you directly to my personal chambers. The term hasn't started yet, so there are no students. The staff members are off doing the last of their holiday things before the term begins. It is just Minerva and me."

"Minerva doesn't know you are here, does she?"

Hermione blanched. "No, she does not. She hoped to lure you back to the castle by offering you a teaching position. I fear the real reason she wants to see you is because she has come to terms with what is happening."

"She has accepted it, but you will not?"

"I cannot and I will not do that. But I can't do this on my own. I have exhausted all of my resources. The Healers at St. Mungo's say it is only a matter of time…"

"Then perhaps they are right, Miss Granger. People die every day. Minerva is not exempt from this fact of life."

Hermione slammed her fists down on the table, causing the aged wood to squeak in protest. "Damn it, Snape! I am telling you something isn't right!"

Severus cleared his throat at her sudden outburst. She was adamant which intrigued him most of all. "Yes, you have made it very clear you think something suspicious is afoot."

"I'm saying I do not think her ailment is natural. Her magic is depleting more and more every, single day. The Healers have given up on her. They do nothing but shake their heads. They are incompetent twits, the whole lot. She needs better and, unfortunately for me and for you, you are better. She is hardly able to summon a chair, let alone do the magic required to keep Hogwarts running smoothly."

"Are you seriously implying that someone may have done this purposefully? That someone has done this with a genuine intention to cause her harm?"

"Yes, that is what I believe. I have no proof other than the fact it was a sudden onset and has become worse as the weeks have gone on. It is a long shot, but it is also a gut feeling."

"And if I decide to do this?"

_Bingo_, she thought. She had him hook, line, and sinker. "Then bless you for doing what's right. I will be greatly appreciative of your help and I will cover any costs your research would demand. Minerva would finally stop worrying over you and focus on beating this damned thing."

"Would you expect me to stay at the castle?"

"It would be easier," Hermione said, standing up from his leather chair, "but I would understand if it isn't something you are willing to do. Please know I don't expect an answer today, but I would like to know what you have decided soon." Hermione walked toward the door, brushing past the sour man still leaning on the wall. "Thank you for your time, sir. I'm sorry to have disrupted your afternoon. Whatever you decide, you can simply send a letter by owl post informing me of your intentions. I need time to make the proper arrangements for whatever happens. I don't want you to do this for me. I want you to do it for her."With that, Snape's house guest said nothing else as she saw herself out.

Once he was free from his unannounced visitor, Severus was left with a hell of a lot to consider. Running a hand through his hair, he sauntered over to his still-warm chair. He sat there a long while before finally leaning over to pluck the small box from his coffee table, careful to not touch the Portkey. As soon as he was close enough to take a decent look at it he recognized the inkwell-turned-Portkey. It used to belong to him. Minerva had given it to him as a gift his first year of teaching. He remembered the day he found it on his desk for the simple fact it had been the only good thing about his first day as an educator.

_Severus sulked down the hall toward his private quarters. Had it not been for the fact he wasn't wearing a house uniform, he would have passed for an awkward seventh year. Twenty-one years old and responsible for molding and shaping the up-and-coming generation. It would not have been that bad had they not taken him as seriously as a Cornish Pixie. Most of the current students had been his school mates just a few years ago. There wasn't a soul at Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry who did not know someone, or know of somebody who knew of someone who had experienced Severus Snape as a student. It would be a hard stigma to break and he would have to do it soon if he was going to teach Wizarding Britain's youth anything about the subtle science of potion making. As he walked and thought, Severus came to the realization that he despised the idea of having to wake in the morning and trudge through another day like the one he had just had. He knew exactly what he wanted— a stiff drink and the privacy of his own rooms._

_ As soon as he opened the door to his rooms he saw it. There, sitting upon his desk, was a small box wrapped in the colors of his house. He eyed it with suspicion, as if it would jump off the table at any second and come after him. It had to have been a joke, or gag of some sort. He approached his desk, noticing the 'gift' sat on a sheet of neatly folded parchment. Taking his wand, he scooted the box off the parchment revealing the seal of the Gryffindor Head of House, Minerva McGonagall. Picking up the letter, he broke the red wax seal and began to read her neat penmanship. _

_News travels fast within these walls, Severus. Even if it didn't, one would have to be practically blind to see how miserable you look. If I can offer you any advice, this would be it: You have earned the right to be here. You have earned the right for the simple reason that an educator who is fond of learning earns the entitlement and the capacity to help others learn. Never forget that. Never forget they are your students. Never forget you are their teacher. Stop sulking about and start behaving like you deserve their respect. - Minerva_

_Placing the opened letter on the table, he grabbed the tiny box and started to rip off its wrappings. Slowly, he removed the box's top revealing the nicest thing anyone had ever gotten him—an inkwell. The pristine sterling and crystal vessel sparkled as he picked it up to give it a proper inspection. The hallmark etched into the metal cap read 'SS,'—his initials. It was a terribly personal and thoughtful gift. Only Minerva would so something like this. From that day forward, thanks in part to her words of advice and his will to prove himself, twenty-something Severus Snape became the educator countless had come to remember._

Damn Hermione Granger.

She had played him directly into her hands. The woman had to have some Slytherin blood in her to use such a tactic to get his attention. Though he would never admit it, it was sheer genius. Severus hadn't seen his inkwell for years. He had, in fact, been sure it had been destroyed when the castle was partially torn down during the final battle. He wrote it off as an irreplaceable loss, expecting to never see it again. It appeared life had other plans for him because there the blasted thing was, sitting in a box in his hand, forcing him to remember the ailing woman who had given it to him.

He and Minerva had always had an interesting relationship, the two of them managing to tolerate one another over the years. Some would have called it friendship. Severus, however, called it more of a mutual understanding. The two of them would often engage in verbal fisticuffs, neither of them serious, of course, but it was the spirit of the exchange they both favored. He had spoken to her occasionally after the war, but had not had a genuine conversation with the woman in quite some time. If it was as Hermione Granger said, he would not have much time to speak with her.

Severus sat the inkwell and its box back on the table before leaning back in his chair. He knew what he had to do. In the morning, after fourteen long years, Severus Snape would be returning to Hogwarts.

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Author's Notes:

This story was written in response to a Bring Back the Bastard challenge on the LiveJournal community, Deeply Horrible. For this fest, participants were asked to write about and analyze the more astringent qualities of Severus Snape's personality. This is my take.

I would like to extend a very special thank you to my betas for this story, Meladara and Desigrl. Without them, I would have never made it past this first chapter. I want to thank all of you who read and take the time to review. I do this for you. As always, reviews are welcomed and appreciated more than you could possibly imagine. Happy Reading to all!


	2. The Arrival of Severus Snape

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

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**Chapter Two**

The Arrival of Severus Snape

Severus Snape stood by his bed, eyeing the belongings he had set out to take to Hogwarts. It was an exercise in futility because he knew everything he wanted to take was there, waiting to be packed. It was merely a way to buy himself more time—time to consider the ramifications of the traveling down a road he really had no desire to follow. He could easily decline the offer that had been presented to him, but the dreaded words 'what if' plagued his mind. What if he refused, knowing full well he might be able to help? What if he decided to help, only to discover there was nothing to be done?

Severus sat down with an agitated huff as he summoned a satchel from his closet. Carefully and meticulously, he shrank and placed his clothes inside the makeshift suitcase. The Potion books followed and finally his Potions kit. He had no idea how long he would be gone, but reasoned he was just a short Apparation away should he find himself in need of any of his things. Bag in hand, he stood up and walked from his bedroom toward the stairs leading to the first floor.

He walked slowly down the narrow hall toward to the staircase, silently casting charms and enchantments to deter any intruder ignorant enough to try to step foot inside his home. Growing up in Cokeworth had taught him a thing or two concerning home security; any house left unattended for an extended period of time was subject to a fair amount of looting. As his house was one of the more respectable ones remaining in the township, he took every precaution guarding against those who had less-than-savory intentions. He stopped at the last door, closed it and began casting a series of complex enchantments. He watched as the entry to his Potions lab disappeared into the wall entirely, leaving a smooth surface in its wake. If there was any room he wished to remain hidden, it was his Potions lab. It had been the main source of his livelihood since he had left his post at Hogwarts.

Being a private Potions dealer had its perks, giving him an opportunity to travel the world in search of exotic ingredients and various Potions tomes. It had also given him an escape from his dreadfully monotonous life style. A terminal bachelor and general hard-arse did not lend itself to many social outings, but Severus Snape was reasonably content. The thought of changing the routines he had established and carried out each day was daunting. For some reason, a particularly irksome part of him felt the change was necessary, because, though content enough in his life, Severus was beginning to discover how incredibly bored he had become.

Satisfied he had successfully hidden his stores and lab, he finally took to the stairs. Severus continued the same procedure on the ground floor, taking extra care to place the appropriate enchantments on his impressive personal library. Second to his Potions Lab, Severus's private collection of books was a great treasure, not to mention particularly dangerous should the books fall into the hands of a sneak thieving Muggle or unsavory wizard. With a flick of his wand, Severus watched as the book shelves were absorbed into the wall, leaving behind no trace of having been there. Another swish cleared the stark sitting room of any remaining sheets of parchment, quills and outdated copies of the _Daily Prophet_.

Severus sauntered over to his leather chair to take in his newly renovated room one final time. "The model of Muggle mediocrity," he mused aloud as he surveyed the scene. During his scan for any lingering evidence of the magical world, his eyes caught on the object of his distress. The Portkey he was to use to get to Hogwarts. He studied it with great scrutiny for the longest time before an agitated noise escaped from him. No matter what Severus tried to tell himself, no matter the reasons he gave for not wanting to go, his conscience eventually won out. He got to his feet, throwing the satchel over his shoulder.

"Best be done with it." He grabbed the inkwell with his free hand, disappearing almost instantly from his sitting room.

Several hundred miles away, Hermione Granger had just awakened from a restless night of sleep. She had managed to spend another night away from her bed in favor of her uncomfortable spot on her settee. She looked up with a yawn, surveying her makeshift work area. Before her were massive tomes and several rolls of aged parchment. The contents of the parchments varied, but they all centered around finding a way to cure her friend. The number of nights Hermione had fallen asleep with a book or quill in her hand were becoming far too many, but it was something she was growing accustomed to.

Minerva had fallen ill around the start of the previous term, though it was quite possible that her ailment had started before that. Hermione would have likely been oblivious to her former professor's condition even if symptoms had been present, as her mind had been preoccupied with her own tumultuous personal issues. The relationship she had with Ron had started to crumble before her eyes because they simply wanted different things. Truth be told, it had started to chip and crack years before it finally fell apart that fateful day in June. Hermione was focused on her career; Ron was more concerned with settling down. Settling was simply something Hermione was not comfortable doing, though for the longest time she kept telling herself she was. Her analytical, overly critical side eventually won out, and as a result, their relationship never went beyond anything but a simple courtship.

She closed her eyes, remembering all too well the night their relationship and friendship ended.

_Hermione had just arrived in Muggle London, having taken the train from Hogwarts to King's Cross Station. She welcomed the quiet walk back home. With another school term over, she was relieved to get a bit of down time to pursue activities of a more leisurely nature. Hermione turned the corner of her street, seeing Ron sitting on the steps outside the door of the flat they shared—something he never did. Hermione could feel that sickening knot form in the pit of her stomach, almost as if she could sense the impending conversation._

_"Ron?"_

_The redhead looked up from his shoes with an uncharacteristically weak smile that only made her heart sink further. "Hermione, I have to talk to you about something."_

_"Okay, let's go inside."_

_She held out her hand to help him up and he took it, squeezing it like a lifeline for a fraction of a second before letting it go. Once inside, Ron took her bag, placing it on the floor beside them. Hermione tried to brush off his odd behavior, but deep down she knew what he wanted to talk about. It was all he ever talked about._

_"Do you want tea or anything?" Hermione asked, toeing off her shoes._

_Ron was quiet for a while before he finally found the will to speak. "I've been thinking about you and me."_

_"Okay…" Hermione trailed off, suddenly realizing how very real the situation was. "What have you been thinking?"_

_"I don't think you and I are on the same page." Ron ran his hand through his hair as if trying to find the words to express what he wanted to say. "I've never been good at this sort of thing, you know that, but I think we're pulling each other apart by wanting to go in different directions."_

_"We've talked about this at length. What is wrong with the way things are?"_

_"Where we are is not where I want to be."_

_"Ron," she began, frustrated and a bit defensive, "just tell me what you want from me."_

_"I want you, Hermione. That's all I've ever wanted! You are so bloody blind sometimes it's pathetic."_

_"How dare you say such a thing?! You have me," she said as she grabbed hold of his hands in hers. "I'm standing right here!"_

_"No I don't, not really. I gave everything to you, Hermione. I waited for you to finish your education. I waited for you to get your dream job. I waited for you to make a name for yourself in your field. I'm tired of waiting for my life to begin. But you apparently aren't."_

_"Do you really truly want that life, or do you want it because your best friend and little sister have it?"_

_Ron's face flared nearly as red as his hair. "You know that's not it at all!"_

_"Really, because that's all I ever hear from you. 'Harry and Ginny this, Harry and Ginny that'. Harry and Ginny are Harry and Ginny, Ron. You and I," she said pointing between the two of them, "are us. We are completely different. We want different things."_

_"No, you want different things," Ron snapped. "Sometimes I wonder why you even bother to stay with me. It's almost like you pretend to be happy for my sake."_

_Hermione sat down heavily on the nearby settee as Ron's revelation slashed into her like a knife. He was spot on and she knew it. Truth be told, she had known it for a while, but refused to acknowledge it. She looked up at him noticing the quiver in his lip as he tried to conceal is torment. The last thing she wanted to see was him hurting. To know she was the cause of his distress quickly turned her preconceived anger to guilt._

_"You're right," Hermione managed through the fresh tears threatening to spill from her eye. "There is no use in trying when the pieces don't fit anymore. No matter how much we twist and turn ourselves in an attempt to accommodate the other, we'll never fit together. I've known it for a while, and I think you have too."_

_Ron grabbed his jacket from its hook, throwing it over his shoulder. He started for the door, but turned at the last second. "You're wrong. I have never once thought that. In the last thirteen years, I have never for a minute thought you weren't the one for me. You decided you weren't the one for me."_

_"I don't know what you want me to say," Hermione admitted, fiddling with her hands in her lap. She couldn't look him in the face after that._

_"Don't bother saying anything. I'm going to Ginny's." Ron said nothing else as he walked through the door and out of her life._

Those eight words were the last she had heard from him, because when Ron returned later that night, Hermione was gone. She packed everything she owned and returned to Hogwarts within the hour of their breakdown. She knew it had been a long time coming, but that did not make it hurt any less. With her parents still living in Australia and her friends taking Ron's side in the split, Hermione felt alone. Hermione's heartache was far from over. A few weeks following her returning to the castle, Hermione received the devastating news that both of her parents had died in an auto accident in Sydney. Hermione took the loss especially hard. She tried her best to hide her grief, but at that point, she spent most days mulling over why she was even getting out of bed. It was not until Minerva came to her one day, offering a sharp kick to her arse that she realized she needed to lift herself up by her boot straps and get on with her life.

Hermione poured herself into her job and opened herself up to Minerva more than she thought she could. Her former Head of House became a close friend, taking on the role of the meddlesome mother hen. Just when things started to look up for Hermione, Minerva's health took a nose dive. Determined not to let another thing slip from her, Hermione began her quest to do whatever she could to help. In addition to her work responsibilities, Hermione searched tirelessly to find anything that would help. Unfortunately, all of her work had been for nothing. Minerva was getting worse and Hermione was running out of options. Her last hope was Severus Snape.

She had not even considered Snape as a resource until Minerva had mentioned him in a casual conversation several months before. He had made a name for himself in the world of Potion making. Hermione could easily remember the article he published in a prominent Potions journal detailing the several new uses of Lacewing Fly he had discovered. The fact he had made strides in Potions development was not why she was interested in his help, but rather the knowledge he possessed from having once lived and breathed the darker side of magic. Hermione hoped he would have the necessary knowledge to help her, but more importantly, she hoped he would agree to help.

The more she thought on the subject, the more Hermione grew impatient and anxious as she waited for her former professor's reply. When she left his home the day before, Hermione thought she had him convinced for the simple reason he did not toss her out in the street after she asked for his help. Now, as she thought back on it, she realized he behaved rather impassively about the entire situation. Severus Snape was the sort of man who wasted no time in telling someone exactly what he thought. Hermione reasoned the lack of reply meant he was giving her proposal some thought.

In an effort to calm her nerves, Hermione decided she might as well start her day and make herself some tea. Soon enough her private quarters were filled with the subtle scent of Lady Grey tea. The soft aroma of the delicate lavender was exactly what she needed. Hermione carried her tray to her desk, proceeded to pour herself a cup and was lifting the hot beverage to her lips when a muffled crack resounded through her sitting room, sending the cup flying from her grip. The tea cup flew in the direction of the noise and, much to her mortification, connected with Severus's chest, dousing him with the scorching hot contents. "For fuck's sake, woman!"

The realization that she had just thrown a hot cup of tea all over Severus Snape set her straight instantly. She was out of her seat in a flash in an attempt to rectify her mistake. "Oh my goodness, Professor Snape! I am so sorry," she said frantically, blotting his front with the hem of her dressing gown. "Let me help—"

"Don't touch me, I can manage it!" Severus snarled as he pushed her away. "Why didn't you throw the whole damned teakettle while you were at it?"

Hermione recoiled at his tone before she realized he was really the one at fault. "I said I was sorry. Besides, you scared me silly. You can't just pop in whenever you'd like, you know!"

"Forgive me for asking," Severus snapped, drawing his wand to siphon off the Lady Grey that had seeped into his clothes, "but why in Merlin's name would you give me a Portkey if you did not wish for me to use it?"

"You were supposed to send a letter! I had no idea you were coming!" About the time the words escaped her lips, a soft rapping noise came from one of the windows on the far side of the room. Hermione and Severus looked up in the same instance to spot a rather large owl perched outside.

Severus narrowed his eyes, though Hermione could not tell if his incredulous expression was aimed toward her or the bird. "Your bloody letter, madam."

Hermione started to open her mouth, but the look on Snape's face squashed any such notion of a retort. Instead, she quickly walked over to the window to allow the bird entry. As soon as the window was wide enough for it to squeeze through, the Great Grey owl swooped in the room nearly whacking Hermione in the head with its impressive wingspan. She turned to see that the bird had settled itself on the edge of her desk, looking as put out as its owner. Hermione waited for Severus to tend to his owl, then realized he was not about to budge.

Eager to get the winged menace out of her personal chambers, Hermione hurried over to the bird, reaching for the roll of parchment attached to its foot. The owl did not appreciate the sudden encroachment on its space and went directly for her fingers in retaliation. Hermione ignored the slight sound of approval coming from the man standing beside her, instead turning her attention to his discontented familiar. "There is no denying to whom you belong," Hermione muttered to herself as she finally managed to get the parchment from the wide-eyed creature.

Once the bird was relieved of its cargo, it looked to Severus for direction, completely ignoring the biscuit Hermione offered as payment.

"Off with you, then, before you fall victim to boiling," Snape said mockingly. The bird squawked in response before nearly taking Hermione's head off as it took its leave.

"Your letter," Hermione said, holding it up timidly to Severus. "I guess there's really no need to read it."

"So it would seem," he managed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is it safe to assume you do not have anything ready?"

Hermione sat his letter on the edge of her desk. "It does look that way, yes. If you'll give me just a moment," she said, heading toward her bedroom, "I'll start correcting that."

Severus sat down on Hermione's sofa carefully so as to not disrupt the various things strewn about its cushions. "Do take your time," he called sarcastically after her retreating form.

On the other side of her closed door, Hermione buried her head in her hands. What a fantastic way to start the day, she thought to herself. Then it hit her. Severus Snape was in her sitting room. He would not have come all this way unless he had intentions to help her! Refusing to waste any more time, Hermione retreated to her lavatory, only taking the time to brush her teeth and change into something more appropriate. Taking one last look at her in the mirror, Hermione tried to talk herself down.

"For goodness sake, Hermione, get it together. If he didn't leave after you assaulted him with your tea, he isn't leaving." She stood there, watching herself chew on her own lip for longer than she wished, before finally gaining the composure to actually speak with him. Hermione pulled the latch of her door, willing herself not to blow this opportunity.

Hearing the subtle click, Severus looked up from the parchment he had busied himself with during her absence, noticing the nervous expression that was on her face.

"I see you have found some of my research pertaining to Minerva."

Severus merely nodded, turning his attention back to the document in hand. "Indeed."

"What you see there is only some of it," Hermione offered. She went straight to her desk and began rummaging around in one of the large drawers. Severus watched as she brought several thick bound sheets of parchment from the desk. "The information I have gathered thus far is in these five journals. I find it easier to focus on a certain symptom as opposed to looking at the broader picture—at least until we can figure out exactly what the problem is."

"What exactly are her symptoms?"

"Her magic is erratic at best. Sometimes she is able to change into her Animagus form. Other days she can't even manage a simple Summoning Charm. At first, the days where her magical ability was disrupted were very few. Now within the span of a few weeks, the disruptions tend to happen four out of the seven days. Here," she said, handing him one of the journals, "have a look for yourself."

Severus's brow furrowed in concentration as he examined the rather extensive log Hermione had kept over the last few months. "And the disruptions, as you call them, are they becoming more severe?"

Hermione sat down on the sofa, looking absently through some of the research she had complied. "That is a safe assumption, yes. Though, Minerva usually refuses to do any sort of magic so I can test this theory. I usually have to wait in the wings to see if she can do anything."

Severus stood abruptly, handing Hermione her journal as he passed her. "I must admit, I have never seen anything of this nature."

"You aren't the only one."

"Having said that, I don't know if I will be able to be of any great assistance, but as you could guess by my being here, I am here to help you find what you are looking for.

"I cannot thank you enough, sir."

Severus ignored her thanks, walking toward the door to her chambers instead. "I think it's time to see the Headmistress," he said as exited to the hall.

Hermione stood from her settee, hastily trailing after his looming form. She was surprised to see he had cleared a considerable distance up the hall by the time she made it outside her quarters. Some things didn't change. Apparently, Severus Snape's hell-bent walk was one of them. "I don't think that is such a good idea right now!"

Severus spun on his heel, nearly causing Hermione to run into him. "And why is that?"

"I haven't had time to prepare for your arrival."

"You're lying," he said, narrowing his gaze. "The truth now, Miss Granger, or I walk out the front gate to leave you alone to your task."

"Minerva doesn't know you are here," Hermione blurted out, frustrated.

"What does that have to do with anything? She has been requesting my presence for the past three months." Severus turned to continue down the corridor when a pair of petite, firm hands caught him by the sleeve of his jacket.

"I mean she doesn't know the real reason you are here. If she finds out she will refuse our help and all of our efforts will be for nothing. Let me talk to her first," Hermione pleaded. "Let me to convince her you are here for a visit."

Severus's face took on the scowl Hermione recognized all too well. She smiled at him uneasily, trying to appease him. Unfortunately, Severus Snape was not one to be placated. "You are unbelievable. You show up at my home unannounced to solicit my help in some nonsensical task only to refuse me the opportunity to do anything productive. Remind me again why I am here. "

"Please, just let me break the news to her. You'll speak to her before the day is out, I promise. I haven't had time to get the house-elves to prepare your lodging, so for the time being you can stay in my office or my personal rooms."

"There is no need for that, Hermione," a voice said from behind her. The overly Scottish brogue of the Headmistress's voice told Hermione she had overstepped her bounds. The two of them turned to see the Minerva McGonagall standing at the end of the hall with a scowl on her face.

"I believe she knows, Miss Granger," Severus said with a satisfied smirk. "If you'll excuse me, I have business with the Headmistress."

Hermione sulked behind him, surprised to see the frown on Minerva's face turn into the first genuine smile she had seen from her in months.

"You look like death, Minerva," Severus quipped, striding to where she stood.

"You have turned into the epitome of sunshine, Severus," she laughed weakly. "You are looking particularly approachable. Lost your touch, have you?"

"You have yet to irritate me, old bat," he said, taking her arm. "What is all of this nonsense of you ailing?"

"I'm afraid that is our dear Hermione's doing," Minerva said, casting a quick glance to the younger woman. "She tends to overreact and has taken me on as her latest project."

A smug look flashed across Severus's face. "Your Gryffindor golden child has not changed, Minerva. However, I would be concerned given the way her other interests have turned out. S.P.I.T, was it? If I remember correctly that took a ghastly turn."

"For your information, it was S.P.E.W," Hermione grumbled, "and an admirable cause."

Minerva brought a hand to Hermione's shoulder comparable to that of a mother trying to soothe an irritable child. "I trust my golden child with my life, Severus. Though her methods are questionable, I know she has my best interest at heart. She is not so different from you really."

Severus's lips curled with displeasure. "There is no hope for you if your mental facilities have disintegrated enough for you to make such an observation."

Minerva laughed, but Severus could see right through her. The Headmistress could, when the situation called for it, be an exquisite liar. However, the fact she dodged the entire question sent up a red flag. Severus could sense her condition the moment he saw her. Minerva was a strong woman, but whatever was causing her torment was taking a toll on her no matter how much she tried to downplay it.

"At any rate, you are a terrible liar, Minerva. Something is troubling you."

The Headmistress stopped in her tracks with a sigh. "Perhaps this is a conversation that requires a more private arrangement," Minerva replied. "My office should be suitable."

"Minerva, if you would like, my chambers are just down the hall," Hermione offered.

"I'm not an invalid, Hermione. I am merely a tired, old woman," the witch said. "I could use the fresh air and I'm sure Severus would like to peruse the halls for old times' sake."

"I would rather not, but it appears I have no choice," Severus said, taking Minerva's arm again, urging her to move. "On with you then, I don't have all day."

* * *

Author's Notes: A very special thanks to my betas, Meladara and Desigrl. These two gave saved my arse more times than they'll ever know. Also, my readers and reviewers, you make me smile. The time you take to read and review amazes me and I can't thank you enough. I like to develop a dialogue with my readers, because **_all_** of you play such a big part in my success as a writer. That said, your reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated. Go forth and read my friends!


	3. The Maladies of Minerva McGonagall

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

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**Chapter Three**

The Maladies of Minerva McGonagall

The usually boisterous halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry now stood as still as the stone used to create them. Apart from the stifled clamour of the various portraits, the only sounds cutting through the earnest silence were the muffled footsteps and voices of the three generations of professors heading for the eighth floor. Minerva's desire to travel to the Headmaster's office made for a rather long walk given the pace the trio was moving. The Headmistress and her Transfiguration mistress ambled along, quietly conversing between themselves, leaving Severus to reflect on the Hogwarts he had left fourteen years before.

Snape had not been back since the final battle in May of 1998, and that was perfectly fine by him. The last year Severus had spent at the castle had been a hellish nightmare he wished to forget. Not wanting to return to the castle was one of the justifications he had tried using in his attempt to deny Hermione's request for help. He had never bothered to count the nights he had been haunted by images of the broken and battered castle. He often awoke in a pool of his own cold sweat, his heart beating furiously in his chest like a drum. The dreams had long since ceased, but the thought of rousing such a devilish monster from its sleep was enough to make Severus wary of returning. He realized his concerns of the castle's appearance were nonsensical the moment he entered its halls from Hermione's rooms.

Severus was surprised to learn the reconstruction had been so seamless given the state in which he last saw the castle. He looked to the floors and walls, trying to find any trace of the bloodstains, unnatural cracks or blast marks created by the frenzy of the second Wizarding War. It was a relief to find no such evidence of the bloody scar forever labeled as the Battle of Hogwarts. Every portrait, every stone, every wrought iron wall lamp was in its precise place, making Severus's memory of the chaos seem like a fragment of his overly imaginative mind. Halfway through his identification of the portraits, a sharp elbow from his old companion interrupted his intense examination.

"Severus, are you even listening to what I'm saying to you?"

Severus looked down to see the look normally reserved for day dreaming first years directed straight at him. "Of course, Minerva," he lied. "I was merely taking in the restorative work completed on the grounds."

"If that's the case, tell me, what do you have to say for it?"

"The castle looks better than I expected. It looks exactly as I remember it, down to the placement of the portraits."

"I wanted the students and the remaining staff to feel comfortable when the school reopened," Minerva began, running her hand along the smooth stone covering the corridor. "We must never forget those whose lives were lost within these walls, but to uphold their sacrifices, the Board of Governors decided the castle needed to be returned to its original state."

"Some people had a right fit concerning the placement of a war memorial," Hermione added, "but Minerva was adamant that the school should be defined as a school and not a burial site."

Minerva smiled at her protégé. "Absolutely. This is a place where young people come to shape their futures. I wanted them to have precisely that. Considering that most of the students who returned right after the war had lost someone close to them in the carnage that transpired here, it seemed unfair to have this veil of grief draped over them when they tried to move forward."

Severus remembered all too well the disarray of the reconstructive phase of the Wizarding World. He had vowed to keep himself completely out of the commotion, instead focusing on creating a life for himself outside the hub of Hogwarts. Severus disappeared from the public eye shortly after he had been pardoned by the Minster of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, for his supposed indiscretions during the Dark Lord's uprising. He understood the importance of moving forward once he was finally given the chance, but forgetting how he got there was something he could not fathom. "You can place a mask on an unsightly face, Minerva, but that does little to change the fact that the repulsiveness remains hidden beneath the façade."

"Unfortunately, you are right, Professor Snape," Hermione said suddenly. "The term following the war was one of the worst I have ever seen. The old wounds were still there for almost everyone. Some felt their loved ones' memories had been betrayed when the Governors decided on their course of action. Others were thrilled because they wouldn't have to be reminded of the hate and loss that gave way to one of the most terrifying times in their lives."

Minerva nodded her head in agreement. "Hermione would know considering she returned to complete her final year of education. She was an integral part of the restorative team as the voice of the student population."

Hermione looked to Severus eager to see his response but was disappointed when he opened his mouth with a reply.

"Of course she would be, Minerva," Severus said softly. He turned slightly to face Hermione, his almost inaudible tone icier than she could ever remember it being. "How else would the little Know-It-All prove herself? Helping Boy Wonder take down the Dark Lord simply wasn't enough. She had to have her hand in the reform."

Hermione's lips pursed in a fashion that could rival that of her former head of house as her anger boiled dangerously below the surface. How dare he say such a thing and in front of Minerva no less! Before she could help it, a bit of her anger seeped through her clenched teeth. "We couldn't all disappear from the world, Professor. Some of us didn't have that luxury. "

Before Severus could retaliate with more vitriol, Minerva interrupted him with another round of questioning. "Enough about Hogwarts, Severus. Tell me, how is that lucrative contract with St. Mungo's?"

"I would hardly call it lucrative, but it keeps me occupied."

"There will always be a need for someone with your skill set. Potion-makers who belong to the Most Extraordinary Society for Potioneers tend to work for themselves. It is such an admirable thing to offer your services to the public."

"Just doing my civic duty," Severus managed without sounding too incredibly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I have very little time outside of my contract for any private research or work. Apart from the Lacewing Fly findings, any new developments have been at a standstill. I do rather miss the independent research, but research for the sake of development leads to very few Galleons."

"You do know you would have no trouble returning to Hogwarts should you find yourself with such a desire. If I remember correctly, you had time for your independent research while teaching."

Severus had known this subject would eventually turn up once he arrived. However, he hadn't expected the topic to come up quite so quickly. Teaching at Hogwarts had been one of the most stressful aspects of his life. The job itself wasn't difficult, but rather the extracurricular activities he had been involved in during his tenure. Despite all of this, Severus knew Minerva was correct. While serving as Potions Master for Hogwarts he had ample time for independent research. Most of the information he gathered that would eventually lead to him being awarded with the prestigious invitation to the Potioneers Society was completed in the dungeon Potions labs. The prospect of extra time did little to squelch his apprehension of returning. Severus had no desire to return for the simple fact that he did not want to be reminded of the nightmare he lived through during Lord Voldemort's conquest for power. "I can assure you, Minerva, I have no aspiration to return to my old post."

"What a shame," said the Headmistress, her tone surprisingly hopeful after his refusal. "With Horace retiring this past term, I have had rotten luck finding a worthy candidate. I do hope you'll change your mind. Hogwarts has missed you."

"I'm sure if you asked him for the favour, Slughorn would return as interim professor until a more viable replacement is found." Hermione couldn't resist the opportunity to take another jab at Severus for the verbal lash he gave her moments before. "Merlin knows the students need a proper teacher."

"Of course he would," said Minerva. "Professor Slughorn is a decent man. He would want the students to receive the best possible education."

"Horace Slughorn is bordering on senility," Severus replied smoothly, a look of complete indifference on his face. "His methods are far too lenient. In a field such as his, leniency will result in loss of limb or worse."

Hermione was hoping Severus would criticize Slughorn's teaching abilities. She knew full well Severus could not deny Slughorn's skill, having been taught by the man himself, but she also knew the elder brewer was slipping. "All the more reason for you to return, _Professor Snape_. Your techniques, as I recall, were exceptionally effective."

Severus's permanent frown deepened as he realized his former student had not only called him out but put him in a spot yet again. Perhaps Hermione Granger had grown up after all or at least developed a scheming streak.

"No matter, Hermione," Minerva said as the group turned the corner to leading to the Grand Staircase. "It is still early. I'm sure our sardonic Potions Master will come around in good time."

Severus shot a menacing glare at Hermione, who simply shrugged her shoulders. He realized this was just the beginning of their solicitation. As they climbed the enchanted stairs, Severus remained quiet with the hope of keeping the two women off his case. He listened as the two nattered on about the new term until a coarse, quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. Severus turned, seeing nothing but empty air behind him.

"If it isn't Professor Snape." This time all three members of the group had turned to see a ghastly looking spectre taking shape. Within a few seconds, the figure of a broken man was floating glumly behind them. The Bloody Baron drifted in their direction, his heavy chains of penitence clanking morosely behind him. Severus had always been able to relate to the Bloody Baron, though he was the only soul who ever recognized the connection. As the Slytherin Head of House, Severus had had his share of conversations with the gaunt spirit given their close proximity. Severus was one of the few among the living who knew of the Baron's poignant act of betrayal. Remaining in limbo with the crushing guilt of a beloved life lost by his hand; the Baron's story reminded Severus of the guilt he felt when he learned of Lilly Potter's death. Severus, unlike the Bloody Baron, had been given a second chance at life, though he loathed every single second he spent wallowing her in her memory and his self-pity. Severus had since noticed the error in his behaviour, but that did little to bury the melancholic thoughts that plagued most of his adult life.

"I didn't expect to see you within these walls again," the blood-stained ghost said as he coasted into the empty space beside the group.

Severus only offered a nod, though inside he relished the notion of seeing a Hogwarts staple. "Nor did I, Baron. Nor did I."

"What brings you back to the castle after all of these years?"

"Certainly not for pleasure given my company," Severus answered casually, ignoring the huff of protest from the Headmistress. "My assistance is required by the Headmistress McGonagall and her professor."

"For whatever reason, it is good to have you back, Professor. The dungeons are dismally mundane without you."

Hermione stifled a snort of amusement. Minerva, on the other hand, showed no such restraint. "Oh, stop it, Baron, before you cause the man to blush. Besides, Severus is quite convinced he is not back but merely on a visit."

Given the look on his face, it was quite obvious Severus was not amused. "Precisely, Minerva, and you would do well to remember that fact considering it came from none other than your gob."

An awkward, cheerless smile crossed the Baron's face. "Still the same Severus Snape it seems."

"We wouldn't have him any other way, Baron," Minerva began with a grin. "I'll be sure to send Severus your way before he leaves the castle, but for now I'm afraid he must attend to this bit of business."

The glistening Slytherin ghost bowed gracefully to the group before making his exit. Minerva bid farewell to the Slytherin ghost and continued up the staircase. Hermione followed closely behind the Headmistress, but Severus lingered for a few moments, allowing himself to fall a few paces behind the two women. The hushed conversation of the various portraits confirmed Severus's reservations. There would be no way he would remain hidden amongst the shadows at Hogwarts. Word of his return was spreading like a contagious disease. He walked in silence, listening to the chatter and whispers, hating every second of the unwanted attention. After what seemed like a thousand lifetimes, the three of them were finally in front of Minerva's office.

Hermione brandished her wand, pointing it at the stone gargoyle. "Gryffindor Quidditch Cup." After Hermione uttered the password the gargoyle leapt aside, allowing the trio entrance.

Stepping into the Headmistress's Office sent a flood of memories rushing over Severus. He had spent most days in this office during his year-long stint as Headmaster, each of them more agonizing than the last. Severus had presided over what was inarguably the worst year in Hogwarts history. He had tried everything to convince Voldemort to give the Headmaster's post to Lucius Malfoy, but the Dark Lord insisted that Severus was the only man for the job. During those dark days, Severus had used this office as an escape – an escape from the treachery going on in the hallways and the classrooms. Newly appointed teachers, who were nothing more than pawns Voldemort was using to further his goals, abused and tortured students. Severus had always had a reputation for being a harsh professor, but the things that went on during those days were enough to turn his stomach. Even when he retreated to the confines of his office, however, Severus could not truly escape. He was constantly plagued by the memories of his meetings with Dumbledore in the old wizard's final days. It was in this office that Severus was given the unenviable task of killing his former mentor. It was in this office that Severus learned that Harry Potter, the son of the woman he loved and the boy he had sworn to protect, would have to die by Voldemort's hand. This office had always been a place full of darkness and dread for Severus.

Now, however, the office was decidedly different than he remembered. Minerva had made several changes in décor, giving the room a markedly more feminine look. Gone were the gloom and dust that Severus had come to associate with this room. They had given way to a warmth and tidiness that Albus had never had the time for, nor Severus the desire to maintain. As Severus reflected on the stark changes, Minerva took a seat at her desk, bidding he and Hermione to take the chairs across from her. "It certainly looks different than I remember it, Minerva," Severus stated as he sat down.

"Yes, well, thank you for noticing, but somehow I doubt it is the décor that you really wish to discuss."

"As shrewd as ever, I see. As I'm sure you've surmised, I have been asked to come to Hogwarts by a certain busybody on your faculty. As I understand it, Minerva, you are not well."

"I'm sure Professor Granger had the best of intentions, Severus, but I am afraid that her concern has led her to become overly worried over some slight hiccups."

Hermione immediately protested. "Headmistress, your magic is failing you. I don't understand how you can continue to deny that."

Minerva pursed her lips. "I have no doubt that you have noticed some abnormalities in my magic, Hermione. However, I assure you that these are merely natural side effect of old age."

Hermione sighed nervously before responding. "With all due respect, you and I both know that's rubbish." A look of shock crossed Minerva's face in response to Hermione's unexpected brashness. "I don't mean to be rude, but Professor Dumbledore's magic never faltered and he was much older than you are, not to mention he was being poisoned by the Dark magic from that ring-turned-Horcrux."

Severus stood up abruptly. "Well, Minerva, if you say that there is nothing wrong, then it appears that my coming here has been an enormous waste of my time." His eyes shot daggers in Hermione's direction. "It is clear that I am not needed here."

"Professor Snape, she's in denial. Her magic is erratic; I've seen it with my own eyes. Please, you have to trust me."

"Miss Granger, as smart as you undoubtedly think you are, to think that I would take your word over that of a colleague that I have trusted and respected for years is quite delusional."

Hermione looked at him in disbelief. She went through such efforts to lure him here, and now he was going to leave just because Minerva was downplaying her illness? She had to do something. Just before she was about to protest again, she heard Severus's voice. _'Keep your mouth shut. I know what I'm doing_'. Severus's lips were not moving. Hermione knew at once that he was using Legilimency to communicate.

_'She's lying,'_ Hermione thought. _'She knows it's true, she just doesn't want to admit it.'  
__  
__'Just be quiet. If there is something wrong, I'll figure it out without you blathering on.'_Severus's words were harsh, but Hermione did as she was told. Severus turned to Minerva. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, but I really must get going."

Minerva stood up. "So soon? But you came all this way. At least stay for a cup of tea."

Severus feigned deliberation as he paused for a few moments. "I suppose I could stay and catch up for a while before I go." Severus spied Minerva's tea set on top of a bookcase. "Allow me to get your tea set down for you."

"Don't be silly, Severus. It's no trouble." Minerva pointed her wand at the tea set. "_Wingardium Leviosa_." The tea set levitated above its resting spot for a second before it started moving toward Minerva's desk. Severus watched closely, trying to pick up on any irregularities. Suddenly, as the tea set was about halfway between the bookshelf and the desk, it started to wobble. A split second later the teapot and cups had slid off the tray and were headed for the ground. Severus nonchalantly flicked his wand, stopping the objects in midair. As he sat the tea set gently on the desk, Severus glanced at Minerva, who had started to blush. She was undoubtedly embarrassed. She had just failed to complete a spell that was routinely taught to first-year students.

"Minerva," he began but was immediately cut off.

"Severus, honestly, I had it under control. I'm just getting a bit unsteady in my old age."

It was obvious to Severus that she was trying to save face, but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he took a seat next to Hermione as he allowed Minerva to make some tea and engage him in idle chatter. After a short while, Hermione heard his voice inside her head once more. 'Say something about being cold.'

Hermione waited a few moments before broaching the subject. "Are the two of you cold? It's a bit chilly in here, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is. Autumn seems to come earlier each year," Minerva answered, picking up her wand. She pointed the wand at the fireplace. "_Incendio_." A stream of light burst from the end of her wand and hit the fireplace. Instead of igniting the wood inside, a loud crash filled the room as dust, rock, and splinters erupted from the fireplace. Hermione and Minerva let go startled screams, but Severus calmly stood up as he sat his empty tea cup on her desk.

"Enough, Minerva. It's clear that your problems go beyond the usual side-effects of aging. I will stay in the castle and assist Miss Granger in finding the cause of your illness."

Minerva protested immediately, "Severus, that isn't necessary."

"On the contrary, it is wholly necessary. I do not know if it is your pride or your desire not to burden others that is keeping you from admitting you need help, but whatever it is, I suggest you get over it quickly. I am going to stay and help and I'll hear no more objections from you. We can't have you accidentally blowing up a student, or worse, part of the castle."

Hermione could see that Minerva was on the brink of tears. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Professor McGonagall. You're sick. There's no reason to be embarrassed. Nevertheless, I shall tell no one of your ailments, so you needn't worry. I'm sure Professor Snape shares the same sentiment."

Severus nodded faintly in Hermione's direction. "You have my word, Minerva. What we discuss in terms of your… issue will be between the three us. I would, however, suggest that it is best for you to refrain from doing magic as much as possible until we get this sorted out." Minerva sat silently for several moments with her eyes downcast before offering a halfhearted nod of agreement. "Then we have an agreement," Severus said in an attempt to put the matter to rest. He opened the door leading to the staircase. "I shall see myself to my room. Good afternoon, Minerva."

Severus only managed to get a few feet down the hallway before he heard Hermione's voice. "Professor Snape, wait!"

He let out an audible sigh. "What, Miss Granger?"

"We need to talk about what our plan is going to be."

"I have had quite enough conversation for today. Could you please have the decency to stop bothering me long enough to walk to my room?"

Hermione was undeterred. "This is serious, Professor Snape. I know you don't like me. That's fine. But I at least want to know what your plan is. I have looked the library over more than once. I can't find anything. So what are we going to do?"

"I have no intention of going to the library. Whatever is affecting Minerva, I am certain it is of a darker nature than anything that would be kept there."

A puzzled look crossed Hermione's face. "Then where are we going to look?"

"Right now," Severus replied, "I intend to look at nothing but the backs of my eyelids. Tonight, after dinner, I will begin my research by paying a visit to an old friend who is quite well-versed in the Dark Arts. For your own personal edification, and because I have no desire to explain my findings to you when I return, it is best that you accompany me."

Hermione could feel the heat creeping up through her chest, spreading to her face. "Surely you don't mean Lucius Malfoy?"

"Ah, finally that keen intellect I've heard so much about shows itself. Now, if you'll excuse me… I have to find a House-Elf and an appropriate room." Severus's voice trailed off as he turned and made his way down the hallway.

Hermione watched him disappear down the long corridor, completely taken aback and utterly disgusted by his suggestion. She had no desire to set foot in Malfoy Manor, but she knew it was no use arguing with him. Making her way down the hallway in the opposite direction toward her chambers, she was thankful that she had a mountain of things to keep her busy. If there was ever a day she needed to keep her mind occupied, it was the day she would be taking a trip to Malfoy Manor.

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Author's Notes: A huge thank you to the ladies who helped behind the scenes, Meladara and Desigrl. These two people are saints for taking me and this project on. Also, those of you who read and review! Your thoughts make my day! As always, reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated! Happy reading to all!


	4. Soliciting Mister Malfoy

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

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**Chapter Four**  
Soliciting Mister Malfoy

Severus stood in the corridor outside the Great Hall. He had elected to have his evening meal in the privacy of his own rooms. Truthfully, he needed the peace and quiet because after years of living as a recluse, stepping back into the spotlight was a bit of a change he wasn't entirely ready for. That very same evening, most of the staff had returned to the castle for their annual dinner to kick off the unofficial start of the new term; Severus wanted to be as far away from the other professors as he could manage.

Now, he found himself waiting and growing all the more impatient. He had made plans to meet Hermione outside the Great Hall once the evening's events were finished. By the sound of the frivolous nattering and storytelling going on behind the massive wooden doors, it appeared he would be waiting a bit longer than he had originally anticipated. His quiet recital of the ingredients necessary for brewing Wolfsbane Potion eventually gave way to pacing; the pacing was followed by the close inspection of the area of the window he had stationed himself by. Severus stepped up to the window, running his long finger across the surface. The condensation that had formed on the stained-glass pane came off on his finger, but that did little to clear the seemingly ceaseless fog that had settled over the grounds. If Hermione decided to wait any longer, they would have to postpone their trip to Malfoy Manor for another day. Severus turned around with a sigh, seating himself on the window's ledge. No sooner than he had settled himself down for the long wait, the doors leading into the Great Hall opened with a groan, allowing Hermione through.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling her shoulder bag more securely around her. "I tried to get away. As I'm sure you're aware, the professors tend to be a talkative bunch, especially at feasts."

"Well, I'm sure you found yourself quite at home," Severus replied unsympathetically. "You have never shied away from the sound of your own voice. Would it be possible to dispense with any further chitchat and get going? We're late enough as it is." Severus opened the front door and began walking toward the gate so that the two could Apparate to Malfoy Manor.

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed closely behind him. "Whatever you say, Professor." The two walked in silence the rest of the way. Within a few minutes, they had reached their destination. Severus stopped and turned sharply, extending his hand. Hermione grabbed it and immediately felt the familiar pull of an Apparation form in her stomach.

The Apparation took only a few seconds, but Hermione was glad to finally feel solid ground under her shoes. Hermione opened her eyes to see the Manor looming darkly in the foreground. Severus dropped her hand and started toward the front door, unaware of Hermione absently rubbing the area on her forearm where Bellatrix Lestrange had carved a ghastly gift into her skin nearly fourteen years prior. Even though she knew she was perfectly safe, her nerves were supercharged as she followed him to the front steps.

Severus knocked on the door, stepped back next to Hermione and waited. "Let me do the talking. I would expect seeing you will be quite a surprise for Lucius and Narcissa." Hermione nodded in agreement, moving to stand behind Snape. They waited a few moments before a tiny house-elf opened the heavy wooden door wide enough to poke its bald, wrinkled head through.

"Master Snape!" the little creature squealed, its bat-like ears flopping wildly in excitement. "Cappie is so sorry, Sirs for keeping you in the colds! Come in, come in! Cappie will fetch Mistress Malfoy." The door swung wide opening, allowing Snape and Hermione entrance into the Manor. The House-elf scampered off down the foyer, apologizing every step for keeping the guests waiting.

Severus entered the house with Hermione trailing closely behind. Hermione peered around Snape, noting a much warmer atmosphere than she remembered. Gone was the chill and dread she had secretly feared. Instead, it was as if the Manor had received an entirely new look. The once cold, stone walls were lined with large tapestries and warm hued paintings. The hard granite floors were covered by neutral plush carpets. Hermione was shocked to see that the Manor resembled a home and not the gruesome pit she remembered from her youth.

"All part of the Ministry reform," Severus said as he watched Hermione scan her surroundings.

Hermione looked up at him, slightly confused. "I beg your pardon?"

Severus leaned closer to her trying to keep their conversation strictly between them. "Do keep up, Miss Granger," Snape chastised. "What you see before you was all part of the Malfoy family reformation. As you know, the Ministry conducted several raids of Malfoy Manor after the fall of the Dark Lord. Those in charge of their… restructuring insisted the family look the part of a reformed Pureblood family. No more grisly Pureblood relics, but rather Ministry-approved artifacts," he offered sarcastically.

"I knew they received consultation, I had no idea they were told how to live."

Snape looked passively toward the end of the hall as the sound of heels clicking on stone grew louder. "The Ministry has a way of making people do what they want," he said softly. "Turns out, the way to handle a Malfoy is to threaten a lengthy sentence to Azkaban for lack of willing participation."

"They were forced to comply with Ministry demands," Hermione whispered.

"Precisely. Which is why the subject still sits rather sorely with Narcissa. Mentioning it would not bode well for decent conversation."

Before Hermione could respond, Narcissa Malfoy turned the corner with a smile on her face. Hermione was surprised to see that Narcissa had changed nearly as much as her house. She wore slim fitting long-sleeved dress robes that touched the floor. The dress was low-cut, but someone as sophisticated as Narcissa Malfoy was able to make the ensemble regal. Hermione noticed that when the older witch walked, the tips of her emerald green heels peeked beneath the fabric. Her long blonde hair was swept up, with ringlets framing her face here and there. She looked every bit the part of a Pureblood housewife, but something about her demeanor was off. It did not match her appearance at all. "Severus! It is so wonderful to see you. Cappie was nearly beside herself." Narcissa looked past Severus to spot Hermione. The older witch studied her carefully, her smile giving way to an anxious expression. "Tell me, who is this lovely lady?"

"Introductions are not necessary, Narcissa. This is none other than Professor Hermione Granger. Surely you remember her?"

"I thought so, though I didn't want to sound foolish and claim her to be someone she wasn't." Narcissa extended a hand in Hermione's direction and smiled. "It is nice to have you at Malfoy Manor, Professor Granger."

Hermione returned the gesture with an uneasy smile of her own. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Madame Malfoy."

"No need for formalities. Call me Narcissa, dear."

"Now," the blonde witch said, turning to go down the hall, "If you'll follow me, Cappie has made tea in the drawing room."

The mention of the drawing room caused all of the color to drain from Hermione's face. Severus noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. "That is very generous of you, Narcissa. We would be more than happy to oblige."

Hermione swallowed hard and looked up at Severus. The moment their eyes met, Hermione could hear his voice in her head. _"What on earth is the matter with you? You are acting like a buffoon. Pull yourself together before you embarrass me any further._"

'_Excuse me,_ Hermione thought, her tone sour. _'I am sorry if coming back to this house makes me a bit nervous._'

Severus scowled at his companion. _'It is a house and Narcissa is as harmless as a fly.'_

_' That does little to remove the memories that haunt me from my time in this place,'_Hermione thought as she nervously lifted up her shirt sleeve. _'Compliments of Bellatrix Lestrange in the very room we're about to have tea.'_

Severus looked down at the exposed skin of her arm, noticing the faint traces of the word "Mudblood" that had been cut into her skin. He nodded stiffly in her direction and pulled the sleeve back down over her arm. _'Do not show that while we are here again, do you understand? It will only make the two of you more uncomfortable. No harm will come to you while we are here.'_

Hermione sighed nervously, but she knew Severus was right. What happened in Malfoy Manor fourteen years ago could not be undone. It was obvious Narcissa was equally uncomfortable with the idea of having a Muggle-born over for tea, much less one whom her own flesh and blood had violently tortured. They would simply have to make the best of it and go on.

The trip to the drawing room was shorter than Hermione remembered, but she was quite certain her previous memory was a bit skewed. The group was greeted by an overly large, ornate fireplace. The fire in the grate filled the room with warmth and a relaxed glow. As with the rest of the house, the floor was covered with a plush carpet. Comfortable seating was centered around a bulky round tea table. Seeing the room in such a state seemed to calm Hermione almost instantly.

Narcissa encouraged her guests to sit and got straight to business. "If I would have known you were going to pay a visit I would have insisted Lucius stay in this evening." she said, casually stirring a few drops of honey in her teacup. "He will be in a cross mood when he learns he missed you."

Severus leaned back on the settee, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "I suspected Lucius was out at the moment."

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "The man is always out. He is in France tonight. It was London this past week."

Severus looked to Hermione, noticing a frown starting to form on her face. "What business does he have in France, if you don't mind the intrusion?"

"It is hardly an intrusion," the witch laughed. "He's at a pub. He has been going on about some sort of scotch he discovered at some obscure Muggle pub in Paris. I sent him off to get some so he would keep quiet about it."

Severus nearly choked on his tea. "Lucius Malfoy is at a Muggle pub?"

"Yes, as ridiculous as that sounds! He Apparated there not even an hour ago. The silly man has access to some of the finest Firewhiskey ever brewed and he prefers Muggle scotch." Narcissa shook her head, her lips pursed. "A very odd fellow, my husband."

"I could have told you that thirty years ago, Narcissa." Severus quipped.

"And saved me a lot of trouble in the meantime," she said to Hermione with a grin. "But enough about Lucius. What brings the two of you to the Manor this evening?"

Severus sat his teacup on the table as he straightened up his posture. "We were actually hoping to speak to Lucius about a few family heirlooms he keeps hidden away for safe keeping."

Narcissa's arched a finely trimmed eyebrow. "You'll have to speak to him about that, Severus. I can't speak on Lucius's behalf about what you are seeking." Narcissa glanced quickly to Hermione, then back to Snape. "I'm sure you understand my meaning. I can tell Lucius of your request when he returns later tonight if you'd like."

Severus stood abruptly. Both women followed suit quickly. "I am afraid we can't wait that long. Can you tell me where Lucius is? It is most urgent that we speak to him"

"Absolutely. He is at Le Crocodile right off Rue Royer-Collard in Paris. It is a tiny speck of a place, so be careful not to miss it. The Muggle standing watch at the door is a bit of a prat, according to Lucius. Pester him and he'll let you right in. Then, there is also a well-placed Imperius Curse if he's too much trouble."

"Thank you, Narcissa, for your help. It was nice to see you."

Narcissa beamed. "Next time the two of you must stay longer. We very rarely have decent company. Seeing you would do Lucius some good."

"We shall see how much good it will do him. With any luck, Narcissa, I should be back shortly, your husband in tow." Severus turned to Hermione, his hand extending down to hers. "Have you ever been to France, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at him nervously. "Not for a very long time."

Severus grabbed her hand, a raised brow the only thing disputing his calm demeanor. "Let us hope you don't Splinch." Without a single word, Severus and Hermione Disapparated, leaving Narcissa standing alone in her drawing room.

Apparating to France was significantly more challenging considering Hermione had never been to the country and it had been ages for Severus. The long distance was difficult enough, but just using an approximate address added even more stress. By the third unsuccessful try all they were able to find was the beginnings of an Apparation-induced headache and a right bit of nausea. Severus eventually gave in to Hermione's complaints, deciding instead to ask a Muggle passerby for directions.

After wandering the streets for a few minutes, they finally found the place they were looking for. The bar looked positively ordinary, even by Muggle standards. There was no ornate decoration, but simply a set of green doors and shutters with the name of the bar spelled out in plain lettering overhead. Despite its mundane appearance, a throng of people spilled out of Le Crocodile's doors into the street.

"Finding Lucius may prove a bit more challenging than I expected," Severus observed. "Perhaps we would be more successful if we split up to look for him."

"If we get separated, we might not find each other again in this mess," Hermione objected.

"Oh, Miss Granger," Severus responded, "I highly doubt I should be that lucky."

Hermione eyes narrowed in annoyance, but Severus cut her off before she could form a reply. "If you should come across Lucius first, come find me before you speak to him," Severus cautioned. "We can't have you mucking things up before we even get started. He will be much more receptive to me, given… your history."

Hermione nodded before turning in the opposite direction. "I'll let you know if I spot him."

The two of them split up, hoping to cover more distance in the crowded Muggle bar. Severus took to perusing the seating toward the front door. Hermione took off on her own, heading straight toward the bar. Much like the outside of the establishment, the inside was nothing spectacular or flashy. It was dimly lit and filled to the brim with the most eclectic bunch of people she had ever seen. She couldn't picture Lucius Malfoy stepping foot in a place like this bar, but then she had seen stranger things in her life. After a few minutes of battling the rambunctious crowd, she was able to spot the long blond hair belonging to Lucius Malfoy.

From the back of him, he looked to be wearing Muggle clothing—something that struck Hermione as completely out of character for the Pureblood wizard. His dark denims had been paired with a plain grey shirt and dark green jacket. His hair, though it wasn't as long as she remembered, was tied back with a simple black band. She watched him from afar as he toyed with the napkin protecting the wooden bar from the condensation of his half-empty glass. He didn't seem to be in much of a hurry, but Hermione did not want to take the chance of losing him when she left to find Snape. Hermione approached the counter coming to stand just a few feet behind the wizard.

"Mister Malfoy?"

Lucius turned around at the mention of his name, but upon seeing his bookish inquisitor, his hopeful demeanor quickly turned sour. "I am sorry, but I'm not interested. Might I suggest you find another gentleman, perhaps one with a mind-numbing predilection?"

Severus, having made his way inward in the bar, was standing within earshot of Lucius and Hermione, but the bloke at the other end of the bar could have heard Lucius's insult. He watched as Hermione stepped back, pulling her jumper around her protectively. She was obviously horrified at what Lucius was insinuating. "I beg your pardon! Do you honestly take me for a… a slattern?"

Lucius eyed Hermione from top to bottom, and then took a sip of his liquor. "Not a very expensive one, not to mention a bit uptight for my liking."

Hermione's face flushed bright red. "Don't flatter yourself, sir. I am as interested in you as I am in receiving the Cruciatus Curse. I'm only here to speak to you."

"Again, I am not interested." Without another word, Lucius turned in his seat and continued to play with this napkin.

Hermione's extended finger started for his shoulder, but never reached its destination. Severus's sarcastic voice cut through her thoughts. _"You were supposed to come find me when you spotted him. Walk away, Miss Granger, before you embarrass yourself any further."_

Hermione spun around to see Severus gliding over to where they were. _'I had it under control, professor,'_she thought.

'_I highly doubt that. Go. Find a table and wait for me. Let me handle Lucius._'

"Playing nice for the Ministry eyes, Lucius?" Severus began, having finally decided to give his companion some aid, "Narcissa said you were slumming. However, I would have never expected this."

Ignoring Hermione completely, Lucius stood from his stool, meeting Snape's strong handshake. "Severus, what a splendid surprise! I must say I wasn't expecting to see you, old friend. Have a seat, have a seat. Let me buy you a drink!"

Severus shot a glance at the irate woman standing behind him, nodding in the direction of an empty table behind her. Hermione took the hint and Severus sat down beside the other wizard. "Muggle France, Lucius?"

"I find the atmosphere…engaging," the blond offered causally as he motioned for the barkeep. "I like the appeal."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "The appeal? Fifteen years ago, you would have rather been flogged than step foot in a place such as this. What's this really about?"

"Who says it has to be about anything?" Lucius said with a sneer. "Enough about me, Severus. Tell me, what brings you to such a ramshackle hole-in-the-wall?"

Severus watched as the young barman placed a small glass of amber colored liquor in front of him. He eyed the glass for a moment before finally taking a sip. "My God, Lucius," Snape said with a grimace. "That is vile."

Lucius shrugged as he swirled the shot glass in his hand. "It tastes like piss, but it's the effects I'm after."

"What reason do you have to go sloshing through the remainder of your life? You have a loving wife, your fortune, your health."

Lucius turned up the last of his drink, taking the contents in single gulp. "Severus, in all the years that you've known me, have you ever known of me being content with any of that tripe? My wife is home alone. My fortune is useless when I have no desire to use it. My health?" he said, motioning for the barkeep yet again. "This will be my fifth drink of the night. My liver is floundering in puddle of scotch and gin."

"Ah," Severus said, his thin finger tracing the outline of his mouth to hide his smirk, "riding the train to the township of self-pity, are we?"

Lucius shook his head with a laugh. "I see you're still a massive arse, Snape. But for your information, no, I am not riding any such train. I have grown tired of the monotony of it all."

Severus recognized his opportunity to present Lucius with a proposition, a proposition Severus knew he would not refuse. "If that is the case, Lucius, then I may have just the thing to provide you cheer. You undoubtedly noticed Hermione Granger earlier?"

"Of course. It's hard not to notice the little swot, isn't it?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "You're not trying to get into her knickers are you, old friend?"

Severus's expression was void of any hint of laughter. "Hardly, but she is the reason I'm here. You see, we went to the Manor hoping to speak with you. Narcissa was kind enough to point us in your direction."

Lucius turned to look at the younger woman who had seated herself at a nearby table. Hermione was busy examining the wood grain in her table, unaware of the intense gaze of the two men some feet away. "What does she want?"

"She has asked me to help her find what could cause disruptions in magic. As you know, such a thing doesn't just happen. Miss Granger tends to think there is a far more sinister act at hand. After seeing these disruptions for myself, I tend to believe her."

Lucius looked a bit surprised. "She's losing her magic?"

"No, she isn't, but someone close to her is. That person wishes to remain anonymous and I am inclined to agree. This type of information should not be publicized. I'm sure you understand. We wouldn't want to start an unnecessary panic, would we?"

"I fail to see what this has to do with me, Severus."

"I need access to your library, Lucius. I know you did not hand over the Darker varieties of your collection in the reformation. Some of those tomes you have stashed away will mostly likely contain the information I need."

Lucius took another swig before his expression went smug. "Damn right I didn't. Those books have been in the family for hundreds of years and I intend to keep it that way. If the Ministry were to discover I had not truly 'reformed', they'll have me carted off to Azkaban."

"What you do in your home is not privy to the Ministry. You know I will not speak a word of it to anyone." Severus paused a moment when he saw a conflicted look on Lucius's face. "Have you ever known of me to betray you? You should know you can trust my word by now."

Lucius sat his drink down on the bar before digging several slips of Muggle money from his jacket pocket. "It's not you I mistrust, it's your companion. Miss Nosey Parker over there would go running straight for Harry Potter if she saw what I have kept hidden under the rug after all of these years. I apologize, Severus, but I can't help you."

"I have it on very good authority that I will not go running to Harry Potter or any other twit in the Auror's office, Mister Malfoy." The two wizards turned to see Hermione Granger standing behind them, a look of repugnance on her face. "I can assure your guileful, cryptic secrets are safe with me."

Severus's lips pressed into a thin line. The woman was going to ruin it before they had even gotten started. "Miss Granger—"

"Now, now, Severus. Let's hear what she has to say."

"I've said everything I intend to say. What happens from this point forward is entirely up to you."

"As I said, Miss Granger, I don't trust you. You may have pulled the wool over Severus's eyes, but I won't be fooled so easily. You say you won't divulge any information to Potter, but why should I believe that? You have no reason not to betray me and every reason to do so."

Hermione was incredulous. "It's true that I have no warm and fuzzy feelings for you, but in this case, I do have a reason not to betray you. I need information to help someone I care about and I need you to get that information." Before Lucius could respond, she erupted again in a fit of frustration. "Perhaps you forget, Mister Malfoy, that Professor Snape is one of the most skilled Leglimens in the world. Don't you imagine that he could probe my brain and determine my true intentions? Don't you think he already has? I assure you, if I were trying to deceive him, he would know. So if you trust him, you can trust me."

Lucius sat in silence, boring into Hermione with an icy gaze. A slight smile began to form at the corner of his lips as he averted his gaze to Severus. "She's quite the feisty one, isn't she Severus?" Severus made no acknowledgement of his friend's remark. "What is your opinion, then, my friend? Can she be trusted?"

Severus gave a curt nod before elaborating. "Miss Granger may be many things, including annoying, abrasive, and highly insufferable, but I do not believe her to be dishonest. I believe that obtaining this information is what is important to her and do not suspect any ulterior motives."

Lucius downed the last drops of liquid from his glass. "Well then, if you say so, she can come along." Without saying another word, Lucius stood and vanished on the spot with a muffled crack.

Several of the bar's patrons looked around confused, having just noticed the sudden absence of one of their fellow regulars. "Idiot man," Hermione hissed. "Apparating in a room full of Muggles."

Severus started toward the exit of the bar, trying to avert as much of the unwanted attention away from himself and Hermione. "Lucius was never one to play by the rules. Not that it would matter, of course, as most of these Muggles are inebriated beyond reasonable coherency."

"Still," Hermione said, trailing after Snape, "he should know better than to blatantly perform a magical act in front of a few dozen people."

Severus reached the door, holding it open long enough for Hermione to pass through. He stepped out behind her, pulling his own jacket around him to block out the unseasonal chill. The horde of people buzzed around them, completely unaware of the foreigners. "Brace yourself, Miss Granger," he said as he took her hand in his. She looked up at him, noticing the calm expression on his face. He was obviously concentrating very hard on envisioning his destination. His features were bathed in the soft glow of the lamplight. Hermione stood there, captivated by his serene look. The man was an enigma—truly fascinating, but frightening at the same time. Hermione would have been lying if she said she wasn't a bit relieved to have a bit of her past in her tumultuous, uncertain present. In the short time Severus Snape had walked back into her life, Hermione felt a certain pull to him that she didn't quite understand or fully welcome. He was a hard man to tolerate, but she could not deny that she was grateful for his help or presence.

In the precise moment of Hermione's appraisal, Severus opened his eyes to spot her staring at him with a befuddled look on her face. "Miss Granger, you are gaping like a trout. It is most unbecoming for a lady."

Hermione closed her eyes immediately, inwardly cursing herself for such a careless, impolite act. She was lucky he didn't flay her open for the world to see. Trying to mask her embarrassment, she tightened her grip on Snape's hand as she felt the uncomfortable tug behind her navel. Suddenly, she could sense the world around her beginning to spin and collapse, the tell-tale sign they were well on their way to Malfoy Manor. They left behind the crowded street with a crack.

The ground appeared suddenly beneath Hermione's feet. She let go of Severus's hand as soon as her surroundings stopped spinning. Lucius was waiting for them outside the gate to Malfoy Manor. "Welcome," he said with a smile, "I trust your trip was pleasant?" Severus rolled his eyes and walked ahead of Lucius without responding. "Tough crowd," Lucius mused as he waved his wand to open the gate.

Malfoy Manor was even more impressive at night. The windows were lit magnificently and stood out against the black sky. It was definitely not the menacing sight Hermione remembered. In fact, it looked quite beautiful and almost welcoming. Lucius held the door for Severus and Hermione. Narcissa was standing in the foyer. "Well, that didn't take long."

"Severus has become quite the lightweight with his liquor it seems," Lucius responded, shooting a smirk at his friend. "Narcissa, I will require your assistance in showing our guests to the library if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Narcissa replied with a smile as she turned and led them down the hallway toward the drawing room.

The Malfoys traveled the length of the hall, coming to stop at the archway leading to the drawing room. Lucius stepped forward, drawing his wand. He moved his wand along the arch and recited an unfamiliar incantation. Suddenly, blackness started to fill the void left by the archway. Within seconds, the space was covered by darkness that shimmered as if it were moving water. Hermione was taken aback at the sight that was at the same time both beautiful and ominous. "Narcissa," Lucius said, turning to his wife, "close the passage when we are through. Open it again in three hours' time. We should be finished by then. "

Narcissa smiled, removing her wand from her dress pocket. "Of course, dear. I'll send Cappie down in a bit to check on you."

"See you in a bit." Lucius kissed Narcissa on the cheek before turning to Snape and Hermione. "Well, let's get on with this, shall we?"

"Where does that go?" Hermione asked.

"To the Malfoy library, Professor Granger." Lucius said as he spun around, taking long strides down the darkened tunnel. Once the three of them were safely inside, they looked back to see Narcissa waving her wand over the entrance. A loud, grating noise, similar to that of stone rubbing against stone, filled the cramped cavern. The light from the adjoining hall dwindled steadily before finally disappearing entirely.

Hermione raised her hand in front of her face, wiggling her fingers. She couldn't see the slightest trace of them. She waved her hand a bit harder, trying to make out anything. Before she had time to realize what she was doing, light suddenly flooded the darkened space. She looked up, her hand still wiggling in front of her face, to see Lucius smirking and Snape shaking his head. "Something wrong, Professor?" Lucius asked, the humor seeping through his tone.

Hermione's hand fell to her side as blushed. "Not at all. I was only testing a theory."

"And what theory is that?" Severus asked, his voice skeptical.

"The complete absence of light and outside sound. This library is part of the house, so it surprises me that I see no hint of light or hear the slightest sound. It's just darkness, it's much too still."

"Astute as ever, Granger. I'm thrilled you have surmised that it is in fact dark in here. However, it is a little disconcerting that you had to wave your fingers in front of your face to figure that out."

"Hold on now, Severus," Lucius chuckled as he walked. "I'd like to see how smart she really is. Tell me, Miss Granger, what is your theory?"

Hermione fell into place beside Lucius. "As I was saying, I believe this passage is essentially a void. It is part of the Manor, yet it is its own separate entity. What comes into it can't leave until the portal is opened. The same goes with what's on the outside. The concept is brilliant, but it is even more impressive that you were actually able to create a portal."

Lucius looked to Severus with a surprised look on his face. "She knows everything, doesn't she?"

Severus's wand erupted with light as he sulked forward ahead of his companions. "That is what she believes, yes."

"You are correct about the portal. However, the spells used to create this place are different than you would expect. Just because you know it exists, doesn't necessarily mean you know where to find it. This house could be stripped to its foundation and no trace of the library would be found. "

By the look on her face, it was clear Hermione was concentrating especially hard on the information she was being told. "That's how you kept the artifacts hidden all those times the Ministry officials come to call, wasn't it? You created a world within a world to hide your secrets!"

Lucius poked Severus on the back with the tip of his wand. "And here you are denying her mental capabilities. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, old boy. How long did it take you to figure it out? Almost fifteen minutes if I remember correctly. This one got it in less than five!"

Severus signed heavily, obviously tired of the conversation. "Lucius," he said, a frown evident in his tone, "do shut up."

Hermione ignored their verbal scuffle as she was completely enthralled with this new information. "How did you manage something like that?"

"I'd rather not tell you," Lucius admitted. "Furthermore, I'm not sure you would want to know, considering having access to such information could send you straight to Azkaban."

Hermione took the hint and refrained from asking anymore questions. The trio walked for a few more moments before a blinding light appeared some distance in front of them. As she and her companions got closer to it, Hermione realized that they were approaching something exactly like the black portal they had passed through in Malfoy Manor, only this one was made of light instead of darkness. Lucius and Severus passed through without a second thought, but Hermione hesitated for a moment, enthralled by the magic and beauty that she was witnessing. "Come along, Miss Granger, before Narcissa closes the portal. You don't want to get stuck inside." Hermione hurried through just in time to see the portal vanish behind her.

Hermione found the library nearly as impressive as the portal that led to it. There were shelves of books that towered the same as those in the Hogwarts library. It was smaller than the library at the castle, but was bigger than anything she expected to see in a private residence. In addition to the books, there were several artifacts on the shelves and tables. Hermione surmised that the majority of these relics dealt with the Dark Arts and thus had been hidden here to escape the Ministry's prying eyes.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Lucius's voice. "Take care not to touch anything, the books in particular. There are age-old enchantments on them to prevent them from being stolen. I'm afraid touching one would leave you with a rather nasty mark… or you might find yourself short a finger if you decide to touch the wrong book."

Hermione shoved her hands in her jumper pocket as she followed Severus and Lucius past several shelves to a small seating area in the center of the room. "Please sit," Lucius said, extending an arm to the two chairs across from him. "I must admit I am a bit puzzled about the nature of the books you are seeking, Severus. What sort of Dark magic do you find yourself leaning toward with regards to your secret problem?"

"Do you have anything concerning Fendrel Rowntree by chance," Hermione asked before Severus could get a word in edgewise. "Through my research, I have come to find he is the only other known wizard to have his magic leave him for no apparent reason .He experienced the same symptoms as my associate," Hermione went on, digging a few sheets of parchment from her shoulder bag. "First, there is the extreme fatigue and severe headaches that come with completing the simplest of spells. Then, of course, there is the temporary memory loss and the confusion of time and place. Those are just the physical side effects. When magic is performed it is dangerous for others to be in close proximity. We discovered that earlier today when we were nearly blown up as a result of our friend trying to light the fireplace. Any mention of him in a Dark Arts tome should point us in the correct direction. The research I've brought—"

Severus held up his hand to stop her speech. "I doubt there would be any useful information about a fourteenth century wizard, unless of course, Lucius has managed acquire his biography. As I fear that is not the case, we will have to start over with our search. As you can tell, Lucius, Miss Granger is unable to think of the much larger picture when it comes to the Dark Arts. That is why I am here… to show her how to conduct proper research that yields results."

Hermione glared venomously at her former professor. "My research is just fine," she bit back. "I just didn't have access to what I needed, is all."

"Nor the mindset to turn what you managed to find into something useful." Severus added matter-of-factly. "Face it, you have blundered through your so-called investigation and all you have to show for it is regurgitated nonsense that does not lead to anything substantial. If you want me to assist you, we will do this my way and there will be no questions about it."

Hermione tossed the sheets of parchment onto the table between the three of them. "Well, Professor Snape, since you know exactly what needs to be done, lead the way."

Severus stood and started to walk toward the nearest row of book shelves. He examined the names etched into the spines, careful not to breech the enchantments Lucius had erected to protect them. "Lucius," he said after a few moments, "if I may?" The blond wizard nodded his approval, waving his wand lazily toward the shelf Severus had selected. The invisible barrier over each book grew opaque before dissipating entirely.

Severus plucked a large book with deep purple binding from the middle of the case. The cracked silver lettering on the cover read _Maleficium: Malevolent Sorcery and Evildoings through the Medieval Ages_. He extended the book to Hermione who grabbed hold of it carefully so as to not damage the brittle pages. "Start reading," he ordered in a dour voice. "Record any information you deem useful, including the page numbers and any support texts that are referenced. I will review your notes when we are finished."

Severus turned to Lucius who had propped his feet up on the table. He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed as if deep in thought. Severus knew a fierce hangover was lurking precariously in his friend's future. As he passed by, Severus nudged the chair with his foot causing Lucius to jerk forward in an effort to keep from falling flat on his back. The front legs of the chair scraped across the stone floor as they connected. "Time to wake up, you twit. If you think you are just going to sit on your laurels and watch, you had better reevaluate your notions."

Lucius grimaced, running a hand across his temple. "Is this the way you torture a friend? I let you down here, isn't that enough?"

Severus turned around sharply the, corners of his mouth threatening to give way to a smirk. "Think of it this way, Lucius. The sooner we find something useful, the sooner we will be out of your hair and on our way. I know how much you value your bed after a night of frivolity and too much scotch. It would be such a shame for you to have to endure such madness without your blanket and pillow."

"How touching of you to care for my well-being," the other wizard replied sarcastically. "Hand me a damned book if you can manage that."

Reluctantly, Lucius joined Severus and Hermione in their search for information. The three of them poured over volumes of text for hours until they were each too exhausted to make any sense of the words they were reading. Four fresh pots of tea and several sheets of scribble ridden parchment later, the portal opened for the final time that night, allowing the three of them to walk through it. Narcissa stood barefoot at the other side, her hair pulled back and clad in her dressing gown. She was obviously tired, but striving to maintain an air of pleasantness. "Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Unfortunately, no," Severus said without any attempt at politeness.

"That's a shame," she answered. "But please feel free to return at any time if we can be of further assistance."

Lucius hooked an arm around Narcissa's shoulders. "Don't worry, Severus as selected a number of books to peruse for a later date. They'll be back."

Severus feigned a smile. "Your tone is absolutely charming, Lucius. I can tell you can hardly contain your excitement."

"Don't misconstrue my meaning, Severus. You know very well what I meant," the tired wizard replied mockingly. "You should really get him home, Miss Granger. He gets rather poignant when he's tired."

Hermione extended a hand toward Lucius as she offered a sleepy smile. "I can't thank you enough for your help, Mister Malfoy. I'm sure we'll find something of relevance, given the impressiveness of your personal collection."

Lucius regarded her hand a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. He reached out, grasping her hand in a firm shake. "You are most welcome and I trust this little secret will remain amongst the four of us?"

"Of course, sir. Those books, though some are of questionable nature, do not deserve the treatment the ministry would most certainly give them. It would be a terrible waste to destroy any piece of written history."

Narcissa stepped up beside her husband and their guest. "Well said, Professor. Well said. You and Severus, should you find yourself in need of anything, are welcome at Malfoy Manor any time. Please don't hesitate to call on Lucius or me. Any friend of Severus's is a friend of ours. "

As Hermione and Narcissa exchanged pleasantries, Lucius leaned in closer to Severus, who had his arms crossed over the front of his chest, watching lazily. "I can't understand why you aren't fond of that woman, Severus. She's right up your alley—bossy, opinionated, with just the proper amount of swot."

Severus looked at the two women, really only seeing one. The other, though she had changed in appearance, still reminded a buck-toothed menace in his eyes. That part of Hermione, Severus was sure, would forever remain with her for as long as he knew her. Though the bushy, childish, righteous mane of hair had been replaced and she certainly carried herself like a woman, Severus could not see her as anything but, Hermione Granger, the unendurable, know-it-all friend of Harry Potter. "How very observant of you, Lucius," Severus hissed. "Those are precisely the qualities I look for in a potential partner. How could I have failed to notice that Hermione Granger is the quintessence, the very incarnation, of a love interest?"

"Make excuses all you want," Lucius whispered through his teeth. "I know something when I see it."

"Then it should be quite obvious to you that I have no desire to continue this ridiculous conversation." Severus stepped toward Hermione, extending his hand in her direction. She took it without hesitation and waited as Severus said his final goodbyes. "Narcissa, it was nice to see you, and best of luck with that one," Severus offered, nodding toward Lucius. Lucius opened his mouth to with a retort of his own, but was met with the ringing crack of his guests' successful Apparation.

Several hundred miles away, Severus and Hermione appeared out of thin air to the gates of Hogwarts. The crisp autumn morning air surrounding the castle was shocking, but given the way the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, it was easy to tell the day was going to be one of those autumnal days that the truly imaginative mind could create. The trees of the Forbidden Forest had already started to lose their summer freshness, instead showing signs of their annual decay. As the two of them made their silent trek back to the castle, Hermione could occasionally spot a single, fiery colored leaf on a canvas of deep green. To some, it would have been a sign of impending beauty, but to Hermione it was more the start of a countdown of sorts.

With each passing day, Minerva's condition slipped more and more. Their search at Malfoy Manor had uncovered some interesting bits of information, but nothing of real consequence. In short, Hermione had written it off as a complete waste of time. Time, in Minerva's case, was something much too precious to waste, considering the amount she had left was unknown.

"Well, that was disappointing," Hermione finally said aloud as they walked along the worn dirt path. Severus merely shrugged but offered no reply. He was obviously not in the mood for conversation, Hermione decided. "I thought we would find something of relevance considering the extensiveness of the Malfoy collection. It's a shame he wouldn't let them out of the house. It feels improper to impose each time we need to refer to a reference."

"Does it?" Severus asked with calm composure. "Strange that fact apparently did not to deter you when you decided it was a splendid idea to show up unannounced on my doorstep."

Hermione's mouth snapped shut as she glared daggers at the caustic man walking beside her. Severus noticed her vengeful stare, but paid it no mind as they crossed the threshold into the castle. The only thing on his mind was retreating to the privacy of his own room. Hermione managed to remain silent until the two of them came to Snape's room, one of several unused classrooms on the ground floor.

The door leading to his chambers was concealed by a very large and equally dark painting of the Forbidden Forest. Snape touched a colossal boulder that sat moss-covered toward the left of the painting. The large rock began to shrink and protrude from the painting, looking more and more like a smooth-polished door handle with each passing second. When the newly-formed door handle stopped moving, Severus gripped it tightly, pushing the door inward.

"Wait," Hermione blurted out before he should close the door. "What are we going to do now?"

Severus stepped inside his rooms wearily. "We are not going to do anything. I am going to sleep and you are going to leave me be." He seized the door once more to close it, but Hermione moved in its path just before Severus could successfully block her intrusion.

"You know very well what I meant, Professor," she bit back, obviously not amused with his attitude. "What is the plan for moving forward?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, trying but failing miserably to block the pressure of his newest literal and figurative headache, "I should think it would be obvious, Miss Granger. We keep looking."

Hermione opened her mouth to bombard him with more questions, but Severus, having had his fill of his former student, flicked his wand toward before she could utter the first word. Hermione released a surprised yelp as she was yanked backwards out of the way. Incensed, she took a step toward Severus's room, only to be greeted by the slam of a heavy wooden door. For a moment, she contemplated unleashing a bevy of knocks and curses upon the door, but decided that such a frivolous endeavor was not worth expending the last bit of her energy. Instead, she simply shot an angry look toward the door and headed toward her chambers, desperately seeking the sleep that had eluded her for far too long.

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Author's Notes: Okay, I lied. I said I would stretch this out seven weeks, but I can't help myself. I've got an itchy clicky finger. Moving on! First and foremost, a very special thank you to my betas, Meladara and Desigrl. This story was made readable by those lovely ladies! Of course, there are all of you, my readers and reviewers. I write for you, and I feel incredibly privileged to have the chance to share my nonsense with each of you. As always, your reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated!


	5. Potions and Petulant Plans

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

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**Chapter Five**  
Potions and Petulant Plans

The library at Hogwarts would have been completely dark if not for the two candles burning at the tables where Severus and Hermione sat, poring over page after page of ancient text, hoping to find something they had missed. The rustling of the pages and sighs of frustration were the only sounds that filled the otherwise silent room.

"It's no use," Hermione said, throwing up her arms in exasperation. "I've been through these books three times. There's nothing here that is even remotely relevant."

Severus couldn't help but agree. He too had begun to suspect that all the searching the two of them were doing was an exercise in futility. Truthfully, Severus knew full well that he and Hermione were just killing time until one of them came up with a better idea. The longer their search lasted, however, the less likely it became that any such idea would miraculously manifest itself. He stood up and stretched. "Perhaps we should call it a night. We've been here for six hours and we are making no headway."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione slumped on the table, her head resting on her arms. Given the alarm and fatigue in her voice, it was clear she was running on fumes. "Minerva is not getting any better and we're no closer to finding out the cause of her ailments than when we started."

It was the question that he dreaded hearing, but also the one he had already asked himself a million times without coming up with a plausible answer. Severus tried his best to keep hidden from Hermione the fact that he was as utterly clueless as she was at this point. "We must continue looking until we find a possible source."

"I know," she replied, "but the term is starting soon and Minerva is in no shape to handle all the duties that go along with being Headmistress. You've seen how poor her health is getting. I've already been taking on some of her duties this summer – sending out letters, scheduling classes, meeting with the Governors – but once I have to start teaching there's just no way I can possibly handle it all. I can't teach a full load of classes, handle administrative duties, and research six to eight hours a day trying to figure this out."

"Well, then I suggest we double our efforts so that we figure it out before the term starts," Severus replied as he closed the book he had been studying and placed it back on its shelf. "Good night," he offered formally before turning and exiting the library.

"Thanks for being so understanding, Severus," Hermione muttered under her breath when she was sure he was gone. She collected her things, put out the candles, and slowly made her way toward her private rooms. As she walked down the dark hallways, she reflected on the past few weeks. They had been working day in and day out to find something useful, but had been wholly unsuccessful. Working with Severus had not been particularly pleasant, which only added to her stress. However, she was now on a first name basis with him, but only because he had become so aggravated with being called "Professor Snape" that he insisted she use "Severus" instead. She supposed he had become less icy lately, but he was still not particularly friendly toward her.

Hermione cast a Wand lighting charm as she made her way out of the library and down the darkened corridors of the castle. As she wandered the deserted hallways, Hermione reflected on the odd relationship she now had with her former Professor. While she was a student, Snape had never been her favorite professor and, based on his treatment of her in class, she had been one of his least favorite students. He was verbally abusive to her, Harry, and Ron, and nothing they ever did was good enough to elicit anything resembling praise from him. Still, she had always respected him. It was obvious from his lessons that he had a superb mind. For six years, she had balanced this respect for his brilliance with the fear of his wrath.

Everything had changed with Dumbledore's death. Hermione remembered the shock she had felt when Harry had told her what happened. He explained that Snape had been the one to murder the beloved Headmaster. She couldn't believe it. Snape had never been pleasant, but she had never pegged him as a traitor. Then everything changed again at the Battle of Hogwarts when it was revealed by Snape, who Hermione had fully expected to die as a result of the bite he suffered from Voldemort's snake, that he had killed Dumbledore at Dumbledore's own instruction and had been working as a double agent for the former Headmaster. Her respect for the man had grown tenfold due to his incredible bravery.

But for all of his redeeming qualities, the man was downright unlikable. Hermione didn't know why she had expected him to be more respectful of her when she visited him at Spinner's End, but she had. Before that visit, Hermione had not spoken to him since shortly after the battle, and she had hoped that maybe time had softened him, but she had been wrong. Snape had been as acrimonious and solemn as ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts. He clearly resented Hermione for dragging him into this, but Hermione surmised that seeing his longtime friend in such a depleted state was the primary factor contributing to his sourness.

Hermione turned the corner leading to her chambers. As she approached, she was startled by a tall, slender figure standing in front of her door, knocking furiously. It took her only a moment to realize that it was Severus. The pale glow emanating from the tip of his wand revealed a surprisingly worried expression.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. Her voice shook as she feared that he was about to deliver terrible news concerning Minerva.

"I need you to follow me." Severus turned quickly started down the hallway.

"Wait!" Hermione called after him. "Where are we going?"

The stoic man continued to walk several paces in front of the trailing witch. "I received a rather frantic message from Poppy by Floo. Apparently there has been a startling development concerning Minerva. The Matron believes you and I should see to the Headmistress."

Her heart sank to the soles of her feet. Before Hermione could probe for details, Severus's harsh voice slashed through the air. "Before you start pestering me with questions, I have no idea what this is about. We will discover the problem when we get there."

They walked in silence to Minerva's chambers, arriving a few moments later, and let themselves in. When Hermione turned the corner into Minerva's bedroom, she saw Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts Matron, hovering over Minerva's bed, but Minerva was nowhere to be seen.

Poppy turned around, clearly relieved to have some aid. "Thank goodness you are here."

Hermione looked around the room, noticeably perplexed at what was taking place. "Where is Minerva?"

"She's right there!" Poppy shrieked, moving aside to reveal Minerva's bed.

It took her a moment to find the Headmistress, but when Hermione did, she let out an audible gasp. Sitting there on Minerva's bed, looking up at Hermione with big green eyes, was a grey tabby cat. "Minerva?"

"She's been like this since I got here."

Severus stepped forward, his long fingers tracing over the corners of his mouth. "Have you tried the Finite Counter-Spell?"

"I have," Poppy admitted, wringing her hands. "As you can see, it didn't work."

Hermione warily inched closer to the bed as if Minerva would jump off and scurry away. "She can't morph back?"

Poppy shook her head. "Go on, Minerva. Show them."

All eyes shifted to the grey tabby cat as it closed its eyes with deep concentration. Severus and Hermione looked on, noticing no changes in Minerva's form. When the cat opened its eyes, however, several things happened at once and in rapid succession. Minerva began to shake violently as if attacked by a sudden wild spasm. In the blink of an eye, a fur-covered human arm sprouted from the cat's torso. The extremity lay heavily on the bed, twitching in a manner that was eerily similar to an arm that had just been detached from a body. Minerva's features flashed across the cat's face only long enough to reveal the old woman's pained frightened expression.

"Fuck," Severus mumbled as he watched the human arm slowly recede back into the animal, a small grey speckled paw taking its place. Minerva, still in her Animagus form, collapsed onto the bed, her breathing labored between the distressed meows.

Poppy and Hermione brushed past the stoic wizard to tend to the ailing witch. Severus, however, looked on completely shocked by the scene unfolding in front of him. He had suspected it was an urgent matter given Poppy's loud and panicked tone, but nothing could have prepared him for the image of the suffering animal lying on the bed. It was painfully and ominously obvious. Minerva's condition was worsening by the day. This situation proved exactly how dire her circumstances were. Luckily, for the four of them, Severus had a plan in mind.

Severus's work in the private sector had lead to a few discoveries in the field of Potions, more specifically, those potions designed for medical use. As it happened, Lacewing Flies had a far greater use than a simple ingredient for Polyjuice Potion. He would have to make adjustments, of course, but the potion Severus had in mind would do the trick to change Minerva back to her human form. Making his mental list of possible calculations and combinations, Severus made his way to the bedside table and plucked up a spare bit of parchment and a quill. He scribbled furiously while the two witches fussed over the Headmistress.

Moments later, Severus dropped the quill back into its well. "I may have a solution, Poppy. Stay here with the Headmistress. You," Severus said, nodding to Hermione, "come along. I need access to the Potions cupboard." Severus disappeared through Minerva's bedroom door, with Hermione racing to catch up with him. She made it to Minerva's sitting room in time to see the sour man exit through Minerva's chambers and into the hall. Hermione was struggling to maintain steady breathing by the time she finally made it to his side some distance down the darkened corridor.

The two of them walked in silence, though the questions were buzzing madly in Hermione's head. she knew that asking Snape about his plans was sure to draw his ire, but she could not stifle her curiosity. "What exactly are we getting from the dungeons? I've been in the Potions storeroom loads of times and, with all due respect, Severus, I happen to know that there isn't a potion down there that will do anything for Minerva's current condition."

Severus spun on his heel, bending down within an inch of Hermione's face. The younger witch skidded to a halt as Severus spoke quietly, but with an authority she could remember from her days as his pupil. "Don't you think I know that? With all due respect ,_Hermione_, I believe that you are in no position to give me a Potions lesson, so perhaps you should just trust my judgment instead of second guessing me. Nevertheless, you are correct that there are no potions down there that will fit our current need, but what you have failed to take into account in your presumptiveness, is that we are not looking for a potion. We are gathering ingredients."

"Ingredients for what exactly?"

"Reversion Draught," Severus replied as he pulled the storeroom door open with a hefty tug.

Hermione walked in the musty storeroom, lighting the candlestick chandelier that hung cobweb-covered from the low ceiling with the flick of her wand. "A Reversion Draught? What on earth is that?"

"The effect is strikingly similar to Thief's Downfall…" Severus trailed off as he stepped into the cramped room behind Hermione.

Hermione could have guessed the look on Severus's face without even turning to look at him. In hindsight, she should have warned him about the state of the storeroom. After all, Horace Slughorn had an entirely different way of doing things as compared to Severus Snape. His idea of organizing the Potions cupboard was making sure the potions ingredients were up off the floor. The older brewer paid no mind to the careful categorizing and cataloging Severus had maintained during his stint as Potions Master for Hogwarts.

Severus walked past Hermione toward the nearest shelf. He picked up a green-tinted glass bottle containing what looked to be the pickled innards of a rat. He brushed his hand across the label, wiping away the layer of grime and dust that had settled there. "Bumbling senile twit," he managed to grind out before slamming the bottle back on the shelf. "When was the last time Slughorn set foot in this abysmal mess?"

Hermione shook her head nervously. "I…I'm not sure. Most of the ingredients he needs for his lessons are stored in the Potions classroom. What you see here are the items he never uses."

Severus's brow furrowed with disgust. "That much I can tell for myself. Horace Slughorn doesn't deserve to call himself a Potions Master if this is how he treats his stock. This is unacceptable, not to mention highly dangerous. How am I to know if everything I need is here?"

Hermione stepped to the same shelf, squinting to see the name of the potion written on the blackened dusty bottle. "I can help you look," she offered. "If you just tell me what it is you need."

Severus waved his hand angrily in the air, choosing to go to the center of the cupboard instead of giving Hermione any direction. He pulled his wand from his sleeve, extending it arm's length in front of him. Severus extended his other hand, taking special care to keep his palm parallel with the storeroom floor. The wizard made a wide circular motion with his wand, creating a strong gust of wind in the room. Through her wildly flailing hair, Hermione watched as the various bottles and flasks on the shelves remained perfectly still. The higher Severus moved his wand, the greater the strength of the artificial wind became. Still, the containers never faltered. The force of the squall was removing the dust and webs from the ingredients.

"Open the window," Severus called above the deafening howl that filled the room.

Hermione pointed her wand to the tiny window high above the wall of shelving. The small, single-hinged, stained-glass pane flew open, allowing the dirt-colored wind to escape the room. The window snapped shut once the last bit of breeze passed through it.

Once the room was calm and clear, Severus went to work searching through the multitude of bottles that lined the walls of the storeroom. Hermione, who was still trying to get her hair back under control, took to one of the stools standing by the door, careful to keep out of his way. "You said this potion was similar to the Thief's Downfall Enchantment?" Hermione inquired. "How so?"

"Yes," Severus answered as he picked up random bottles to assess the contents. "When brewed properly, this particular potion will negate any enchantments present within the drinker, whether those enchantments are potion-based or spell-based. Though, it hasn't been tested on enchantments that are cast involuntarily, which is precisely what appears to have happened to Minerva, the effect should still be the same."

Severus stepped back with several bottles in hand. He thrust them toward Hermione before continuing to rummage around in the musty closet. "Hold these."

Hermione looked at the containers, studying each one with great intensity. "Haliwinkles and Angel's Trumpet? Did I miss something or are you planning to murder the Headmistress?" Severus made an agitated grunt, but continued searching through the stores. His annoyance did little to quiet the witch standing behind him. "You know those ingredients are volatile when used together, right? Not to mention a single drop of Angel's Trumpet in such a highly concentrated dose as this one is enough to poison fifty people."

Severus turned around slowly, a frown set firmly in place across his face. "Do you honestly take me for some layman?" He spat viciously. "Of course I know what they do! Would I have selected them otherwise?" He didn't wait for Hermione to respond before busying himself once again with his search.

Luckily for Hermione, Severus did not see the immature face she directed toward him. His tone was starting to gnaw away at her like a parasite, but that was simply Severus Snape. Hermione composed herself before continuing their conversation. "Well, _no_. I suppose not. But do you have a guide to reference? Maybe I could help."

Severus tapped the side of his head with his finger, not bothering to turn around. "That is not necessary. Besides, I do not need a reference. It is all up here."

Hermione scoffed. "You don't mean you memorized a highly advanced potion?"

"No," Severus answered with an exasperated sigh. "I created it. Mind you, it has not been approved for use by the general public. Only the most experienced Healers at St. Mungo's have seen the effects. It appears promising."

Hermione looked down at the potion elements sitting in her lap. This seemed like a long-shot to her, but then again, Severus Snape was the Potions Master. More importantly, there was a miniscule glimmer of hope hiding beneath her anxiety. If this potion worked, they may have found a way to manage this latest disruption in Minerva's magic. "So is it safe to assume this hasn't been tested?"

Severus grabbed a shining silver cauldron and a crystal stirring rod from a bottom shelf. He carefully placed the ingredients he selected inside before doing the same with ones Hermione held. "Not this particular draught we are making for the Headmistress. I was forced to make some adjustments to the original formula as her current situation requires different binders and additives." Severus opened the door leading out to the hall, pointing Hermione toward the Potion's classroom down the corridor.

Hermione waited for Severus to join her in the hall before putting out the candles and locking the door behind her. "So you're saying this potion does something else? I mean in addition to negating the effect brought about by her furry little problem."

Severus grimaced at her choice of words, but continued on. "Precisely. And if my Arithmetic equations are correct, which there are no doubts in my mind to make me believe otherwise, this potion should turn her back to her original form and prevent something similar to this from happening in the future."

"I see. How long does the brewing process take?" she asked as they arrived in the Potions classroom.

"Preparing the elements should take fifteen minutes, but having an extra set of hands will reduce that time. The brewing is relatively short, provided the ingredients are up to par. We will be finished within the hour."

With their potions components laid out on their workbench, Severus started preparing the weights for the scales. Hermione, in an attempt to prove herself an asset, retrieved a bronze knife and a granite mortar and pestle from a nearby table, not quite sure if Severus would need them or not. She was relieved to see his nod of approval. Severus grabbed a jar containing liquefied root of Aconite, emptying the contents in the cauldron. Using the rounded tip of the stir rod, Severus retrieved three drops of Re'em blood before he adjusted the heat to a low flame and turned to the witch waiting beside him.

"Take three of the Angel's Trumpet leaves and mash them to a paste in the mortar. Do not get the juices on your skin as the high toxicity of the plant will poison you if it gets into your pores. Once you are finished with this task, let me inspect the consistency before you do anything further. Do you understand?"

Hermione busied herself with her task, though she could not help being distracted by working beside her former professor. She watched him in complete awe at the pace and skill of which he worked. He truly was gifted in Potions given the way his fingers manipulated the tools of his trade. Every move he made was calculated and made with deadly precision. Hermione was a skilled brewer, but Severus Snape would always put her to shame.

He sat with his sleeves rolled up on the stool beside Hermione, working with his face only inches from the grains in the wooden table. He was busy removing the delicate lace-like wings from the flies, taking special care not to tear the membranes holding them together. When Severus did tear a wing, he would discard the entire fly and wipe down his work surface. The wings he managed to remove intact were dropped into the gently simmering silver cauldron. After Severus added a single wing, he would blend the puce-colored mixture with the crystal stirring rod.

Hermione handed him the Angel's Trumpet paste, pleased to see the mush was to his liking. Severus then retrieved the jar containing the Haliwinkles. Using the tip of his wand he removed four of them from the jar, careful not to detach any of the tiny animals' limbs in the process. "The Haliwinkles, as you so astutely pointed out moments ago, would normally react violently with the Angels' Trumpet. It is the wings from the flies that counteract such a reaction," he explained. Using the pestle, Severus crushed the little sea creatures into a murky bluish blob. The salty aroma of the sea filled the room, masking the rancid smell of the herbs and roots. Hermione would have been lying if she said it wasn't a welcome change.

Hermione watched as the Potions Master meticulously measured the Haliwinkles before adding them to the mixture. The potion hissed and bubbled furiously as he positioned the flame several inches higher. "Now," Severus said, adjusting himself in his seat, "we wait to complete the stirring motions. Watch the clock as every four minutes the heat will need to be reduced. Every two minutes we stir. Counterclockwise in a figure-eight pattern for three rotations and twice clockwise from North to South. Do you understand?"

Several minutes and complicated stirring rotations later, Severus and Hermione peered into the simmering silver cauldron. The anxious witch looked to Severus, noticing his intense gaze as he watched the shimmering green liquid churn like an emerald storm. "Is it ready?" she asked anxiously.

In that same instance, a sage-colored wisp of steam escaped from one of the exploding bubbles. The stench that filled the room was similar to that of soiled, rotting swamp water. A weaker man would have retched, but Severus looked unscathed. "Yes," he said clearing his throat. "The smell would indicate that the brewing is complete."

Severus picked up a phial, carefully wiping the inside with a cloth from his pocket. Referring to the sheet of parchment holding his Arithmantic equation, he picked up the bronze knife and carefully etched a line in the glass. "Fetch a glass pipette from the rack," he instructed in his familiar teaching tone. "The smallest one you can find."

Hermione made her way from the workbench to the wall mounted rack at the far end of the room. She looked at the instruments carefully before selecting two of the smallest, cleanest ones she could find. She presented her findings to Severus, who selected the smaller grade of the two. He wiped the pipette with the same white cloth before finally sticking it into the cauldron. He withdrew a tiny amount, carefully placing it into phial. Severus repeated this same process until the contents reached the mark he had etched on the glass. He corked the phial, carefully stowing it in his pocket. "The potion will be fine for the time being," he said, motioning toward the cauldron, "but I will return later to bottle the rest, should we find ourselves in need of it in the future. It would, however, be wise to secure this room until I can return. This potion is not something that should be advertised."

Without another word, Severus exited the room, leaving Hermione to lock up. When she caught up with him, Hermione matched Severus's brisk pace up the stairs and back to Minerva's room. The Headmistress was the same as they had left her. Poppy stood from her chair when Severus and Hermione entered the room. Minerva, still in cat form, was curled at the foot of her bed. Severus picked up a saucer from the tea set that sat on Minerva's desk and poured the potion onto it before placing it in front of the Headmistress. "Drink this Minerva – all of it. It may not be pleasant to your palate, but it is imperative that you take the whole dose." Minerva stood up and began to lap the shimmering green liquid.

When the potion was gone, Minerva began to shake as she had before. This time, however, the transformation was successful. In the blink of an eye, Minerva was back to her usual self, though it was quite apparent she had just been through hell and back. She looked exhausted, her shallow skin a deathly pallid color. Her eyes misted over with huge tears as her lips quivered for the briefest of seconds.

"Minerva," Hermione said softly, taking the elder woman's hand in hers, "how are you?"

A tear rolled down her wrinkled skin, before finally falling onto her lap. "I am tired, child," she whispered, trying to control her emotions. She reached for Severus, who was leaning some feet away against the door frame. "Severus…"

The wizard raised his hand to stop her admission. "Thanks are not necessary, Headmistress. I should warn you not to try any spells in the future. The potion you were given will prevent any major disruptions in your magic, such as the one affecting you tonight, but it comes with a cost." Minerva nodded in understanding, bidding Severus to continue. "Your magic, for lack of a better word, has been disabled. This is only temporary mind you as the potion will inevitably wear off. If you should attempt to do a magical act, it will leave you feeling strained and nauseous. I do not recommend it."

Poppy hurried forward with what appeared to be a standard Sleeping Draught. "Headmistress, you have been through rather a lot this evening. Take this, please, and get some rest. This dosage is enough to help you sleep through the night." Minerva took the phial in her shaking hands, drinking it in a single gulp. Sleep took her within a matter of minutes, leaving her three guests to stand awkwardly in the stillness. Poppy was the first to break the silence.

"I know you don't want to discuss this, Hermione, but Minerva is in no shape to remain Headmistress. The students will arrive in less than a week."

Hermione, who had been leaning on the nearby armoire for support, looked into the matching mirror to spot the Mediwitch's reflection. "What would you have me do, Poppy? Run to the Board and have them make her leave her post? I refuse. Minerva belongs here."

"Perhaps they would allow you to step up in her place. You have been meeting with them on her behalf for weeks now."

"They would never allow it," Hermione quipped, her tone suddenly more astringent than before. " I have neither the standing needed, nor the experience."

"One of the other professors, then," Poppy shot back. "You know as well as I do, Hermione, that this arrangement is not going to work. It is not safe for Minerva or the students."

Hermione spun around, her face flushed with agitation. Poppy was right and she knew it. Knowing something needed to be done, however, did absolutely nothing for discovering a possible solution. "If you can find an agreeable professor in this place that would be willing to step up to the challenge, then, by all means, point me in their direction, Madam Pomfrey. I can tell you right now, none of these people want that sort of pressure."

"If I may make a suggestion," Severus said, stepping out of his place within the shadows. "What if a more experienced professor could sign on as a co-deputy? You could handle all the administrative tasks, but this may make the Board more amenable to your suggestion."

"But who?" Hermione huffed, the frustration in her voice obvious.

"What about you, Severus?" Poppy suggested suddenly. "You undoubtedly have a lot of clout with the Board given your experience and renown as a war hero."

Severus's demeanor changed almost instantly. "First of all," he began bitterly, "I'm sure I don't have to remind you of the circumstances that gave rise to my previous stint as Headmaster. I am sure the Board would not want to do anything that would conjure up memories of that era. Secondly, I am no longer a part of the faculty at Hogwarts in any capacity."

"Only because you don't want to be," Hermione interjected. "You know Minerva wants you to return to your old post. She practically begged you to come back."

Severus's tone turned even more callous when the realization that he had just been backed into a corner. "That leads me to my third point, Miss Granger. I have no desire to come back—"

"I know you have no desire to come back," the younger witch interrupted, "but, with all due respect, have you failed to notice that you are already here?"

"Of course that fact has not eluded me," Severus spat vindictively. "What you failed to notice, however, is that I do not have one iota of longing to teach classes and the prospect of handling part of Minerva's duties interests me even less."

Hermione looked back at the older witch who lay sound asleep on the bed. "I know you won't do this as a favor to me, but think of it as a favor to Minerva. If I am teaching my classes and handling all of her duties, I will have no time whatsoever to work on her problem. She needs me working on it, and I need your help to make that happen."

Severus remained silent and unmoving until Poppy spoke up. "Honestly, Severus, is teaching really so bad? How else are we going to explain your presence in the castle to the students, the Board of Governors, or anyone else who should ask? You've agreed that we should keep Minerva's ailments a secret, so we must have some justification for your being here."

Severus released a weary sigh as he made his way to the door. "Fine. I will go along with your ridiculous plan, but rest assured that as soon as Minerva is well, I will be leaving the castle for good. If you need me, I will be in the lab." Severus did not wait for a reply from either of his newly-acquired coworkers before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

A week later, and very much against his wishes, Severus found himself waiting in the holding room adjacent to the Great Hall. He had reluctantly agreed to welcome the new First-years, leaving the official Hogwarts welcome to Hermione. He had not wanted any of the start of the term responsibilities, but being Deputy to the Headmistress had left him with no choice. In his mind, he had picked the lesser of the two evils. Once the students were sorted, he would be free to go about his evening.

Severus's dark eyes darted from the sheet of parchment in his hand to the several dozen faces in the prepubescent throng huddled in front of him. Another term had brought the newest editions to the castle, and by Severus's standards, they were a rather homely, ordinary looking horde. The children of children he had dubbed them, and if history was any indication of the future, the hope for a peaceful school year had just flown out the window.

Once the students caught a glimpse of Snape, most of them fell silent. Severus's impression was undoubtedly unexpected and almost assuredly unwelcomed by the new students. This was not the sort of thing Severus was good at. During his previous tenure at Hogwarts, he had preferred to stay out of public relations and deal exclusively with teaching classes. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. Severus cleared his throat and began reading from the parchment.

"I am Potions Master, Slytherin Head of House, and co-deputy to the Headmistress. For those of you unaware, my name is Severus Snape. You will address me as accordingly. In a few moments you will pass through these sacred doors before you, where you will be sorted into one of the four historic houses. The Houses of Hogwarts are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. You will form a line, one behind the other, to begin the ceremony." Severus did his level best to feign some semblance of enthusiasm, but was certain that he came across half-hearted and phony as he recited the familiar greeting explaining the sorting process to the first-years.

After he was finished, he led the new students into the Great Hall. The older students were already seated at the four long tables, anxiously waiting to see which students would be added to their houses. Severus led the first-years to the front of the room, just in front of the head table, where all the members of the faculty were seated. There were several new faces at that table, but there were many faculty members left over from Severus's previous time at Hogwarts. Poppy Pomfrey was still at her post as Matron in charge of the hospital wing. Rubeus Hagrid's massive frame occupied a seat next to the diminutive Filius Flitwick, which created a severe aesthetic juxtaposition.

Once the Great Hall was quiet, Severus began the sorting ceremony. As usual, the Sorting Hat issued words of advice for the new year. When it had finished, Severus began calling the new students up one at a time and placing the Sorting Hat on their heads. One by one, the students were sorted into their various houses, each time eliciting a cheer from one of the four tables as they welcomed their newest companions.

After the ceremony was complete, Severus took his seat at the head table. Hermione was seated to his left and to his right sat another of his former students, Neville Longbottom, who had been hired last year to replace Pomona Sprout after her retirement. Severus nodded at the new professor and offered a nonchalant greeting. "Longbottom."

"P-p-professor Snape. Um…h-hello," Neville managed to stutter in response, despite his obvious surprise.

Once everyone was seated, Hermione rose from her seat and stood at the Headmistress's podium. Severus noted how much more comfortable she looked now than he had been only minutes ago in front of the new students. Whereas he could not have been more out of his element, Hermione seemed right at home in front of the large crowd of students.

"Good evening and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Hermione began. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I am the Transfiguration Professor here at Hogwarts. I am very excited to begin the new term and I am sure you are excited to begin the feast. However, before our meal is served, there are a few items I must go over. First of all, I'm sure you were expecting to hear remarks from our Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. Unfortunately, I must report that the Headmistress is ill and will be on a leave of absence until she recovers. In the meantime, I will be serving in the capacity of co-deputy to the Headmistress. Assisting me in this role will be the newest member of our faculty, Professor Severus Snape, who will also be assuming the role of Potions Master. We are very lucky to have Professor Snape with us this year. Please welcome him with a round of applause." A soft murmur of awkward applause filled the room. The students had obviously heard stories, likely from their parents, of Severus's austerity and the difficulty of his classes. After Hermione had finished her remarks, a remarkable feast appeared before them. Severus, rather than partake in the welcoming feast, quietly excused himself from his seat and retired to his chambers, doing his best to avoid any further awkward interaction before turning in.

The next morning came much too soon when he was roused from his sleep by a loud pecking upon his window. He groggily stood up and allowed a large, jet black owl into his chambers and removed the piece of parchment attached to its foot. Severus rummaged through his belongings and gave the owl a piece of food as payment for its delivery. The owl happily accepted it and took off out the window. Severus unrolled the parchment to find a letter that had been handwritten in very neat penmanship. He read the letter to himself:

_Severus,_

_It is most urgent that I speak with you concerning a rather startling text I came across this past evening. I believe this particular tome may unearth the answers you are searching for. Tonight would be agreeable with Narcissa and myself if you are available—as I understand it, you have taken on a few of your old duties. I offer my sincerest congratulations, though it pains me to see that an old friend such as myself had to discover your happy news through the proverbial grapevine. At any rate, you are forgiven and Narcissa and I will be anxiously awaiting your arrival no later than 8:00 o'clock this evening._

_Also, it would be imperative that I mention Narcissa has made it abundantly clear that you are not to dine at the castle. My dear wife will be expecting you to join us for dinner once our business has concluded. Think of it as your celebratory meal!_

_Your friend,_  
_Lucius Malfoy_

Severus laid the parchment down and dressed in preparation for the first day of classes. This news would make getting through the day even harder as the prospect of figuring out the key to Minerva's malady would undoubtedly make the day drag on. His suspicions were confirmed after the first class of the day seemed to last hours. Perhaps Severus had forgotten how inept first-year students were in his time away from teaching, but this lot seemed exceptionally daft. Within the first five minutes of trying to brew a simple Cure for Boils, one student had caused an explosive reaction that had caused himself and two other students to be sent to the hospital wing. That, along with the litany of dim-witted questions that seemed to be ceaseless, and Severus was already exhausted by the time class was over. The day trudged along, but Severus finally dismissed his last class of the day. He quickly made his way toward the front gate, eager to be anywhere but his current nightmare.

Before leaving, Severus had contemplated mentioning Lucius's letter to Hermione. If the witch discovered she had been kept in the dark concerning a breakthrough in Minerva's case, she would be certain to give Severus an earful, and he quite frankly had no time for that. Still, Lucius's letter had not mentioned Hermione and Severus decided not to impose any further on the Malfoys by bringing an unannounced guest. Besides, Severus needed some time away from Hogwarts and everyone involved with it. When Severus finally reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, he turned around to give the castle a final look. He still could not believe that he had agreed to come back here. This place had been synonymous with inner torment during his time there both as a student and as a professor. Severus resolved to work quickly to solve the mystery of Minerva's illness. If he figured out what was ailing Minerva soon, there was a good possibility that he would be out of the castle for good by Christmas. He would even personally assist in finding a new Potions master if he had to. With that thought, he turned his back to the castle taking to the air, leaving no trace of having been there.

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Author's Notes: Thanks to Meladara and Desigrl. They are the best! Also, all of you who take the time to read and review. I appreciate it!


	6. The Horrors of Fairy Tales

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

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**Chapter Six**  
The Horrors of Fairy Tales

Severus appeared in the rural township of Wiltshire at precisely eight o'clock. He turned quickly down a secluded drive that lay hidden among towering ramparts of ivy. To a Muggle passerby, they would simply see the thick fauna covered wall and not the lane leading to the Malfoy Family estate that extended down the grove. Severus started down the concealed lane, the sound of gravel crunching beneath his worn boots as he went. He could have elected to Apparate directly to the front door, but Severus desperately needed the fresh air and time alone.

The recent transition into Potions professor and co-deputy had not been easy for him and Minerva's ongoing predicament only added more weight to the plate he carried. Severus, though he never would admit it aloud, was dealing with a stress he hadn't felt since the war nearly fourteen prior. In a sense, Severus felt as if his life was changing before his eyes and he was utterly powerless to stop it. He quickly shook that thought from his mind as he approached the Manor. The Malfoys, if they caught stench of the slightest bit of inner turmoil, had a way of dragging it out of him.

Severus stepped up to the door, preparing to feign pleasantness only to have it swing open. There, peering out at him, stood Lucius Malfoy with a wide grin on his face. "Severus, do come in," Lucius said as he opened the heavy door for his friend. Severus obliged, shrugging out of his frock coat as he entered. "This way, if you would," Lucius said as he turned for the drawing room.

"I'm afraid dinner has been delayed. Narcissa has yet to return from Diagon Alley. Some nonsense with Draco…" the blond trailed of as they reached their destination.

"No matter," Severus answered lazily. "I suppose we can get down to business until she returns?"

Lucius, who appeared unaware of the suggestion, offered a glass in Severus's direction as he retrieved a bottle of Firewhiskey from his cabinet. "Drink?"

Severus took the glass and stalked over to the nearest chair. "If it will make this process any less bothersome, then yes, I believe I will."

Lucius took to the chair beside him, breaking the seal of a bottle of Firewhiskey to pour his guest a glass. "You're in a right foul mood this evening," he said with a sly grin. "That wouldn't have anything to do with your newest appointment at Hogwarts, would it?"

"Among other things," Severus replied nonchalantly, taking a small sip from his glass. Lucius watched his expression change from one of agitation to slight delight as the smoldering drink soaked in.

Lucius's wide grin was met with a scowl. "Exquisite isn't it?"

"Better than your usual fare," Severus replied, taking another drink of the amber-coloured liquid.

"Glad to know you approve. Narcissa and I took the liberty of sending a bottle of the same vintage to Spinner's End. But since you have been at Hogwarts this past week I would assume it is still sitting pretty in your liquor cabinet."

Severus merely nodded as he picked up his drink again, sipped it, and waited for Lucius to get to the point of why he had been summoned to the Manor.

Lucius, sensing Severus's desire to cut to the chase, sat his drink on the table, and sat back in his chair, both hands toying with the brass rivets holding the leather upholstery in place. "No more beating around the bush, I suppose. So why don't get right to it?"

Severus, carefully placed his drink on the table that sat between them, his arms folded casually across his chest. "Proceed."

"As you very well know, the Dark Lord, in his desire to become all-powerful, was rather taken by the lore of the Hallows. In his quest to discover the whereabouts of the Elder Wand, he built an impressive collection of tomes concerning their creation. The particular book I mentioned in my letter was a book that was left behind by mistake when he deserted the Manor."

"You asked me here to talk about the Hallows? Lucius, there are countless texts circulating the Wizarding world about the Hallows and each one is as ridiculous as the next. I can't see how this is going to assist me in my search."

"The book I'm going to show you isn't about the Hallows, you twit," Lucius scolded. He reached in his breast pocket, retrieving a small, tattered book. He tossed his son's childhood copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _into Snape's lap. "It is about the one who created them. I assume you are familiar with the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

Severus, ignoring Lucius's question, held the book up by its edge as if it were a piece of filthy rubbish. "Are you seriously insinuating the Dark Lord had his very own copy of the beloved wizard fairy tales?"

Lucius frowned, the age lines in his face becoming more apparent. "Of course not! This is only a reference I am going to use to educate you, my friend. Now if you would, please find the Tale of the Three Brothers and start reading aloud."

"You can't be serious, Lucius. I am not reading a word of this tripe."

"Just shut up and do it. There is a point I'm trying to make."

Severus glared at Lucius, cleared his throat and did as he was told. He turned to the page and allowed the rich texture of his voice filled the room as he started reading.

_"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these three brothers were learned in the magical arts_—Lucius, this is ridiculous and I refuse to take further part in this nonsense," Severus growled as he snapped the book shut with a loud thump.

Lucius, who was trying to hide a smile behind his hand, suddenly looked scandalized. "Stop being a child and read the damned book!"

"Pardon my opinion," Severus said, the ire in his voice rising, "but I cannot help but feel like you are secretly getting a great deal of amusement out of this."

"Oh, your feelings are spot on. I find it dreadfully amusing to hear you read children's stories aloud. But I promise you, I have very good reason." Severus looked unconvinced, so Lucius went for a different approach. "Look, this will make much more sense if we can read and discuss at the same time. There are certain things that Beedle the Bard left out when he told this tale. In order for you to understand what I have to tell you, this has to be done."

Severus picked up his glass of Firewhiskey and drained it. "Damn you, Lucius."

Malfoy smiled sweetly and settled himself more comfortably in his chair as Severus thumbed through the book to pick up where he had left off.

"_And so they simply waved their wand and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure." Severus looked up from the book to see the blonde urging him to keep going. "And death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him._"

"What people fail to take into consideration with this," Lucius interjected calmly, "is that no matter how impressive the deal may sound, Death always has an agenda. As you can probably imagine, accepting anything on Death's terms is a rather ill-advised thing to do. Do continue."

_"The oldest brother who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death. So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother. Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man_—not so unlike yourself, Lucius," Severus added snidely, "_decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead. And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the three, and did not trust death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his Cloak of Invisibility."_

Severus looked up from the book to see Lucius snickering at him. "What?" Severus hissed in a dangerously low voice.

"Nothing," Malfoy said, his voice shaking with a slight chuckle. "You just have a lovely reading voice, is all. I can't believe I've never noticed until now."

The book came barreling toward Lucius, narrowly missing his blond head as it whizzed past. Lucius held his hands up in surrender. "Alright! Alright! No more reading."

Severus poured himself another drink and downed it in a single swig. "You are a bastard, Lucius."

"I suppose that makes two of us, but that is a conversation for another time. Back to our little story," Lucius said as he summoned the book from across the room. "The brothers, as I'm sure you are aware, were never able to truly defeat death. So, Severus, the question for you is this: what happened to the Peverell line once the brothers were taken by Death?"

Severus swirled the Firewhiskey in his glass before he shot a look of sheer indignation at the man sitting next to him.

If Lucius was intimidated by such a glare, it never showed through his calm exterior. "Humor me and answer the question."

"The line ended when the brothers met their demise," Severus managed to grind out.

Lucius, ignoring Severus's moodiness, stood up and walked toward a bookcase that stood on the far side of the wall. "So it would seem. This is where the Dark Lord's book comes into play." He pulled a massive tome from its spot on the shelf, and thrust his hand to the back of the case. Moments later, Malfoy retrieved a small, wrapped object from a hidden spot within the shelf. "If you recall, when you and Miss Granger came here looking for information she mentioned a certain fourteenth century wizard by the name of Fendrel Rowntree," Lucius said, pulling the trappings from the unknown object. "You told her that was a dead end, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Severus snapped. "Get to the point already, Lucius, before I lose what little patience I have."

"The surname sounded familiar to me, but I could not place where I had seen it. Then it occurred to me, after you had left, that there was, in fact, a biography of sorts and I happened to have a copy in my possession. You see, Fendrel Rowntree was a sorcerer in his own right, but not for the reasons you may think. I've discovered that he is actually a decedent of the Peverell line. "

"Then why isn't there any mention of him in written record for all the world to see?" Severus asked. "To have come from a line that supposedly died when the brothers did, one would think he would receive recognition for such a feat. If he was as important as you say, why did I not know of him?"

Lucius cocked an eyebrow as he stowed the wrappings in his trouser pocket. "Rowntree was not a man to be reckoned with. In his time he was known for much worse things than just the name of his ancestors."

"What could he have possibly done?" Severus probed, betraying a hint of genuine interest for the first time all the evening.

"He had dealings with Death, Severus," Lucius finally said. "Dealings much different from that of the brothers. Do you know how powerful that would make a person? To be Death's equal would mean unlimited, unmitigated power."

A scathing noise radiated from deep within Snape's chest. "Death? You speak of it as if it is a true being."

"Is it not?" Lucius quipped.

"It couldn't possibly be real," Severus said. "Your information is coming from a child's book, Lucius, surely you realize? I am not one to put much stock in anything that would send first-years scurrying away to their mothers."

"Death is just as real as you or me, and he is always scheming in the shadows. Rowntree sought him out, hoping to acquire gifts similar to those his ancestors had received so that he could become the most powerful wizard in the world. He was granted this wish, but it did not last long. In order to teach Rowntree that he was still in control, Death arranged it so that Rowntree's life would be cut short in a most agonizing way. His magic became uncontrollable and erratic and his health deteriorated rapidly. Eventually, he lost his magic altogether. When the last bit of magic left him, Rowntree died, granting Death a decisive victory in his longstanding rivalry with the Peverell family. Tell me that doesn't sound familiar to you."

"How can you possibly know this?"

"This," Lucius said holding up a black, leather bound book. The book, though it was in impeccable condition, was obviously hundreds of years old. Severus took the book from his friend, turning it over in his hands to examine it more closely. The binding was crisp, but pliable; evidence of careful preservation and care. This text, if it had truly belonged to the Dark Lord, was among one of the things he obviously kept close. The cover was blank save for the worn silver inscription that read, Deonon Fortuna. Severus recognized the noms de plume, but couldn't recall the text from which he had recognized it.

"What you are holding," Lucius said, "is the Peverell history as told by Fendrel Rowntree; Beedle's primary source for his fairy tale. It details the Peverell family legacy leading up to Rowntree's death, sometime during the fourteenth century."

"Why did the Dark Lord have this?"

"It isn't obvious? Death, he believed, was his only enemy. How else would he ever hope to conquer it if by not seeking out what others had tried before him? I can see the skepticism in your eyes, Severus, but I cannot impress upon you the seriousness of this situation. Your friend, whoever he or she may be, has had their hand in something they ought not to have."

"Why didn't you mention this before?"

Lucius shrugged passively. "Your companion. Do you think I would show Hermione Granger a book belonging to the Dark Lord himself? I am not a fool. Some things should remain secretive, Severus. You, of all people, should understand this."

"Give me a moment, will you?" Severus asked, sitting down heavily on the edge of his seat. He opened the handwritten book and started to read.

It was just as Lucius had described. The grim details left out by Beedle the Bard were all there. Death's revenge played out with gruesome clarity, as he took back the lives that rightfully belonged to him. There was no denying the truth contained within the books' pages. The most damning information, however, was the similarities shared by Fendrel Rowntree and Minerva McGonagall. His end was a mirror image of what the Headmistress was going through. The irregularities in magic, the slow withering away that could be hindered by nothing.

Severus let the book drop from his hand as though it burned, everything becoming incredibly clear in the blink of an eye.

Startled by his sudden change in behavior, Lucius stood from his seat to retrieve the book. Severus looked away from the tome as if it was indecent, but he could not deny the information he had gained from it. It was there, swirling around in his head, giving him thoughts he did not truly believe nor refute.

Lucius clapped him on the shoulder, knocking him from his reverie. "Severus?"

Severus shook him off, heading straight for the front foyer. "I have to go, Lucius. There is something I must tend to. Give my apologies to Narcissa, if you will, but I cannot stay for dinner."

Lucius followed him out into the corridor "Wait! What are you going to do?"

Severus did not answer. Instead, he grabbed his frock coat from the hook as he Disapparated on the spot.

* * *

Several hundred miles but only a few moments later, Severus burst through Minerva's door, eliciting shrieks of surprise from the Headmistress and the Matron who sat sipping tea at her bedside. "Poppy, if you will excuse us. The Headmistress and I have business to attend to." It wasn't a request the way it spewed from his lips, but rather a gravely serious order.

Poppy shot Minerva a perplexed look before she stood from her chair. "Is everything alright?" Poppy asked, gathering her teacup and saucer from the nightstand.

"We shall soon see," he said looking at Minerva with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Poppy, sensing the mounting tension, exited with haste. Severus closed and locked the door behind the Matron and cast a Silencing Charm over the room before he gave his full attention to the witch propped against the pillows. "What do you know of Fendrel Rowntree, Minerva? And do not lie to me because I shall know if you do."

Minerva looked away the moment the question rolled off Severus's tongue. She folded her hands across her lap casually, seemingly undeterred by his tone. Severus, having known her for most of his life, recognized the ruse. "I have no idea who that is, Severus," she said at last, with a hint of impudence in her voice.

"Of course you don't," Severus seethed. "I thought you would be ignorant of his identity, so I took it upon myself to discover who this wizard was. The findings, as I'm sure you can imagine, were quite shocking, but they are much too important to keep to myself. Allow me, if you will, Headmistress, the opportunity to educate you. Fendrel Rowntree is a descendant of the Peverell family." Severus paused, noticing the hardened expression that came across Minerva's face. "Odd, isn't it, that this wizard would be a member of the family known for cheating Death?" he replied, his voice decidedly adjusted to give a sense of disbelief.

Minerva never spoke.

"Of course," Severus continued, "this Rowntree fellow, couldn't learn from the mistakes of his ancestors. No, the fool had to go and do something incredibly stupid. Can you guess what he did, Minerva?"

Minerva remained silent, her eyes now fixed solely on the wizard in her room.

"Pity. You don't even venture a guess. But seeing as I am in the mood to instruct this afternoon, let me spell it out for you. Fendrel Rowntree, in his infinite wisdom, sought out Death. He sought out Death willingly to make a deal. Does it not register with you at all; that there are striking similarities the two of you share?"

Minerva took a great shuddering breathe, obviously struggling to find her voice. "As I said, I have no idea what you are going on about."

Severus shook his head in disgust. One terrifyingly, swift movement later, his wand was drawn and pointed ruthlessly at Minerva. "Then you leave me no choice."

Minerva shrank back into her pillows at the sight of him, her hand edging toward her wand that lay by her side. "Severus, don't do this."

Severus's grip tightened around the hilt of his wand, his eyes locking onto Minerva's. Immense disappointment and anger seemed to churn in the depths of Severus's dark eyes, and it was then that Minerva realized he knew. The panic that flashed across her face did nothing to stop the invisible spell that was about to spiral from the tip of his wand. "Legilimens!"

Inside Minerva's mind, Severus was nearly overtaken by the disarray. It was quite obvious she was struggling to find the strength to Occlude as thoughts and memories rushed past Severus in a blur. Severus wasn't interested in any of them, because he knew Minerva would never willingly offer up the deceitful memory he was searching for. Anyone lacking in the art of Legilimency would have easily strayed off course, but Severus did not take long to discover what he was searching for. The memory in question was buried deep down in Minerva's subconscious, as if even she was ashamed to call it her own. As he approached the memory, Severus could sense a change in the aura it gave off. He likened it to being in close proximity with a Dementor given the way an eerie chill began to crackle around him. Gathering his resolve to finally uncover the truth, Severus pressed head-on into the memory.

In an instant, Severus found himself standing on a beach a few feet behind Minerva. He looked around, trying to place them, but this place was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The wild squall pushing inland sent hazy sprays of sea water crashing into the large rock piled about of the shore. Even in the memory he could sense the bleakness of the surroundings.

Severus watched as Minerva made her way across the beach to a cliff face about fifty yards inland. She walked along the face of the cliff until she found a small opening barely detectable against the darkness of the rock. Minerva entered the cave and cast the Wand-Lighting Charm. She traveled down a narrow corridor that opened into a small alcove. Where, at the center of the alcove, stood a small, stone altar. Severus had no idea what this place was but was certain it was an ancient and dark place.

Minerva was now standing in front of the altar. She spoke an incantation completely foreign to Severus and tapped the altar with her wand. Severus had to avert his eyes as the room was filled with a bright, white light. Moments later, Severus was able to see clearly once more as the light was contained in a glowing orb floating inches above the altar.

The voice that came from the orb was as loud and haunting as Severus had expected, but also surprisingly feminine. "You have willingly called on Death, Minerva McGonagall?" the glowing, iridescent orb questioned, a hint of suspicion radiating from it.

"I have. I come to you with a proposition."

The flaming sphere flared violently causing Minerva to shield her eyes. "I make no schemes with the likes of you! Be gone from my presence. Await in fear for the day when I come to take from you what is mine!" Death began to shrink and vanish from the barren alcove, taking the stinging chill of dread with it.

"I have traveled to your dwelling place and uttered the required words. You may not refuse to speak with me." Minerva said defiantly, standing her ground before the feared entity.

Suddenly the orb began to grow into a spectral form, its silvery mottled tendrils flailing wildly in the sea wind as they materialized from thin air. Severus watched from behind Minerva as Death took on the image of itself. Most who saw Death in its true form never lived to tell about the encounter. Severus found himself looking Death in the eye, and for the first time in a very long time, he was afraid.

Death took the appearance of a young woman as pale as porcelain doll. Her features were as sharp as her tongue, but she carried herself with a powerful stealth and gracefulness, two necessary qualities for stealing life from beneath people. Her wild white mane of hair cascaded over bare shoulders, blending perfectly into the flowing robes billowing in the squall. Her piercing eyes were hard and the color of the lightest blue, making her truly a frightful sight to behold.

Severus was filled with an incredible desire to flee from Minerva's mind as he watched the spirit take a menacing step forward. "You speak truly Minerva McGonagall, but be advised – although I am bound to listen to your request, I have no duty to grant it."

"I seek out your knowledge of life. Nothing more."

The phantom cocked her head to the side as if she was actually contemplating such a request. "My knowledge of life? Dear woman, look to the world around you. It will tell you all you need to know. When you understand that life is but a tiny droplet of water in the vast ocean of eternity, you will know the knowledge of life."

"I wish to know how to change someone's path in life," Minerva clarified.

Death frowned, her thin mouth pressing into a hard line. "That is not for you to decide."

"But it is for you," Minerva said, testing her luck.

Death looked out of the cave and onto the horizon, seemingly in deep thought. "Yes, it is." The spirit of death turned back to Minerva with a crestfallen look on her face. "You are a brave woman, Minerva, but do you trust me not to steal your soul from you where you stand?" she asked as she raised a slender hand to Minerva's face. "Taking a life is not the only gift I was befitted. I am able to see within a person's soul to their true intentions—their heart, their essence. Let me touch you. Allow me to see what has brought you here, then I will decide if the knowledge you seek can be bestowed upon you."

"Do what you must," Minerva replied, trying to mask the nervousness brought on by Death's close proximity.

Severus watched dumbstruck from the edge of the memory as Death brought both hands to the sides of Minerva's face. Minerva's nervous expression went blank as Death stared straight into her eyes, reading her every thought, every single memory, her life's tale. After what seemed like an eternity, Death dropped her hands from Minerva's face and stepped back. She watched with a wicked grin as Minerva released a ragged breath and fell to her knees on the sand. Severus watched on, completely helpless as Death circled Minerva like a hungry vulture. "She is like a daughter to you, is she not. This girl you seek to aid?"

"Hermione is a bright woman who should have the opportunity to live a life free of the loss she has endured," said Minerva, looking up at Death from her knees.

"And you would lay down your life to save hers?"

"Without any hesitation."

"But is it Hermione Granger's will to travel down a different path? Loss is a part of life just as much as what we receive. Who is to say this path is not the one she should travel? When someone is on a path in their life, who are you to say that path is wrong? Life makes no mistakes."

Minerva staggered to her feet. "But can life be changed?"

"Yes," Death replied flatly.

"How can I change it?"

Death looked at Minerva with an air of smugness. "You can do no such thing. That power lies with me. I allow people the journey to find me. I will always be waiting at the end of any road they pursue. If I wish to receive one person before another, I weave the strings of life to fit my needs. They go along, never knowing their road has changed. I can give someone who deserves a contented life just that. It is the same with someone who does not deserve such ease."

"I wish for her to be happy. I wish for her to forget the pain of her past so she can finally live a life for herself and not the life others want her to live."

Death smiled, her dark fathomless eyes set on the woman in front of her. "You are unlike any other I have ever known, Minerva. Most seek me out to fulfill their own needs, but you do not. You come willingly and for someone other than yourself. It is because of this, and only this, that I will give you what you seek. I must warn you that it will be at a price." Death reached down to pick up a handful of sand. An hourglass full of white sand appeared in her hands and she held it out to Minerva. The elderly witch took it hesitantly. "Minerva McGonagall, you have but until the sands of this time run out to compete your task. Take heed, woman, for your journey down this road will be treacherous. One does not make a deal with Death and expect Death to receive nothing in return. I will guarantee your friend a long and happy life in exchange for the rest of your days."

Minerva gasped as if she had just been drenched with freezing water. The small sandglass dropped from Minerva's hand landing upright in the sand by her feet. She started to back toward the entrance of the cave, her eyes never leaving the looming spirit. "That was not my intention! I was merely seeking your counsel—"

"It is my will," Death said calmly, but with a menacing authority. "I have decided to assist you and your dear friend because your heart is as true as your love for the girl. It is to be done as I say."

Minerva's face twisted with horror. She had been tricked and by evidence of the sandglass lying at her feet, her time had already started to run out. "I don't understand! How will I know this task you speak of?"

"Your silence, my dear, is your last task. In the near future, you will be struck down even though it is ahead of your time. You and others will try to stop my coming. This will be for naught as neither you nor anyone else can defeat me. This girl you speak of will pine for your life, but she will also gain the friendship of someone who can give her what you and others cannot." Death paused as her eyes looked past Minerva. She looked directly at Severus, who was hidden among the shadows, and smiled. "You shall know the soul I speak of because he will do what you ask of him without question and without hesitation. Take careful warning, Minerva McGonagall. Your dear friend must never know the games you have played. If she discovers your dealings with me, your end will be for nothing and she will continue on the previous path I had set for her."

Severus watched as the remaining color seeped from Minerva's face as the truth of what to come sank in. "This is not what I wanted."

"We rarely get what we want, but in time you will see the reasons and you will feel justified for allowing yourself to make such a sacrifice. Go, Minerva," Death said, looking past her out onto the horizon. "Do what needs to be done. You haven't much time"

Before Minerva could form a reply, Death's form dissipated, leaving the cave feeling even more desolate than before. Severus watched as Minerva hastily picked up the sandglass and hurled it at the side of the cave. The hourglass shattered into hundreds of pieces at her feet and she wept until the tears refused to fall from her eyes any longer. Severus, who was still standing at the edge of the memory, felt it collapsing around him as the anger he held for Minerva rolled off him in waves. He retreated from the memory and from Minerva's mind, unable to take the sight of her any longer.

Once again, Severus found himself standing in the middle of Minerva's bedchambers, staring daggers at the witch lying on the bed. Minerva looked up at him, fresh tears threatening to spill from her tired eyes.

"You disgust me," Severus whispered in an attempt to compose himself. "Of all the stupid, idiotic things you could have done, you pick the worst one possible!"

"I had good reason!" Minerva shrieked, having finally found her voice.

Snape's face twisted with disbelief. "Think, Minerva! Reasons or not, you are playing with fate! You…" he seethed, jabbing his wand in her direction, "you had no right!"

Minerva's eyes narrowed as if she was about to dole out punishment to an errant first-year. "Don't raise your voice to me, Severus Snape. I don't expect you to understand or approve of what I have done. You were the one who invaded my mind to retrieve it! No one was ever supposed to know and you had no right!"

Severus pretended not to have heard her. Instead, he stormed forward coming only inches from where she sat. "Well that plan was shot to hell, wasn't it?"

Minerva's lips pressed into a thin line at his harsh tone, but her resolve did not falter. "No, it was not."

"No?" Snape chastised, his voice full of incredulity. "I heard the words Death spoke to you with my own ears."

"You heard but you did not listen, Severus! It will only be shot to hell, as you so eloquently put it, if Hermione finds out."

The mention of Hermione's name brought on an entirely different streak of resentment. "All of this time you have been lying to her. You have watched her pour herself over books, spending countless hours searching for a way to heal you yet you say nothing. That woman has been running herself ragged to try to help you! She has a right to know this idiocy is entirely your fault."

"If she figures out what I have done, the spell will break. You heard that much for yourself. I have traded my life for her happiness. It may not have been my original intention, but I see now that it is for the best."

"You are a fool and you should have known better than to go flirting with magic of this nature. To seek out Death willingly—you know better!"

"No matter how much you preach to me, it will not change the fact that what's done is done."

Severus threw his hands in the air in frustration. "She has a right to know, Minerva, and you should have the decency to explain yourself! How can you not see that her life is not yours to meddle with?"

"No, Severus, she has a right to live a life free from all of the heartache and loss she has experienced."

"What heartache? What loss? The only thing I could imagine that would be troubling her is you."

"There are things pertaining to Hermione that you have no knowledge of, Severus," Minerva corrected sharply. "Just because you don't see her crumbling before your eyes, doesn't mean that she is not broken."

He paced nervously before pausing to ponder the one part of the memory he had not figured out. "Who is this other person Death spoke of? The one who can supposedly give Hermione what she needs?"

"Really, Severus? Are you so blind that you do not see that she was referring to you?"

Severus felt the sickening prickle of his skin as the fine hairs stood up on the back of his neck. "I am responsible for my choices. I control my life. I make my own bloody fucking decisions! "

"And you have made them. Look where you are."

By the look of revulsion etched on his face, it was clear Severus Snape had reached his limit. "I am finished with this place and I am finished with you." He said nothing else as he stalked out of Minerva's private chambers and toward the front entrance.

Severus was hoping to escape the grounds without being spotted. That desire was squelched when Hermione turned the corner ahead of him. He did not try to conceal the agitation on his face as he strode silently past her.

Hermione turned on her heel, following after him as quickly as her small stride would allow. "What's wrong, Severus?"

Severus quickened his pace, refusing to have a full-on conversation with his colleague. "I am leaving this hell hole," he said, his voice overly harsh.

"I don't understand! What's going on, Severus? Stop and talk to me!"

Severus paused momentarily then continued to stalk down the darkened corridor. "Severus Snape, stop this instant!"

"What more do you people want from me?!" Severus's usually reserved voice thundered down the hall, causing a spine tingling chill to creep over Hermione's flesh. "Minerva cannot be helped, Hermione. It is best you leave her alone. She has decided her fate, there is nothing either one of us can do to help that fact. "

Hermione started to reach for him, but thought better of it as she became aware of the slight trembling of his shoulders. Something was very wrong. "Severus, what is the matter?" He didn't answer, turning once again for the front gates of the grounds. "You can't leave!" she pleaded, trailing after him.

Snape stopped dead in his tracks, whipping around in a swirl of rage and black. "Do you want to know something? I loathe the day you stepped foot in my life, begging me to go on this damned quest of yours. It has given me nothing but grief! I have been brought back into a world I want no part of! But you can't leave people well enough alone can you? Hermione Granger and her fucking projects not satisfied unless she's trying to fuck up someone else's life to fix all that is wrong with hers. "

Hermione stood stock-still in the middle of the hall as Severus's cold voice bounced off the equally frigid walls and straight to her gut. He could tell every word he said to her cut her like a knife. Truthfully, Severus didn't care. His only concern was escaping the castle and a secret he wished he had never uncovered. He left her there, fully aware of the fresh tears threatening to stream down her face.

Severus Apparated from the gate of Hogwarts directly to his front parlor. The moment his feet hit the floor, Severus knew he was fortunate to have made it there in once piece. He noticed the rusty, metallic tang of blood covering his tongue as he gained his senses - evidence of almost Splinching. He walked earnestly to the kitchen, spitting the red-tinged saliva in the sink basin. He stood there in the darkness, leaning against the sink for support as his mind reeled. The house was as still as the sleeping street that lay beyond the frost-covered window. The stillness was maddening for Severus. The deafening silence gave way to the shocking revelation he had just uncovered and wanted very much to forget. In all of the years he had known Minerva, in all of the years he had looked up to and respected the woman, Severus was troubled to learn of what she had done. Minerva McGonagall was level-headed. Minerva McGonagall did not dabble in the Dark Arts or any extension thereof. The Minerva McGonagall Severus knew did not have her hand in an exceptionally Dark pot, no matter the circumstances that led her to doing such a thing.

'_The circumstances_,' he thought, his attention turning to Hermione Granger. As much as Minerva's memories revealed about her choices, they shined no light on Hermione's not-so distant past. However, that past, Severus reasoned, that was far more pained than he had first realized. Not that he would have realized, since he had his own life to live and paid little care to the lives of his former students. Even if that was the case, he could not help but feel the slightest bit of remorse for the girl. Especially when Severus thought he had figured out exactly what Minerva was referring to when she spoke of Hermione's past. Severus had known of her split from the youngest Weasley boy because the lives of the Gryffindor Golden Children were often scrutinized by members of the general public. The wizarding world, as it was, was a rather minute sector of Britain's populace. The world got even smaller when you had a household name. As a result, everyone knew of their neighbor's business. The private lives of certain war heroes were not exempt from intense scrutiny. What the public bystanders failed to see hidden beneath the gossip and hearsay was the effects on the parties involved. Hermione Granger was most likely damaged, but that fact did not make her significantly different than the rest of the people in the world affected by sob stories of similar despair and hopelessness. What he couldn't understand was why Minerva felt the need to do something as drastic as she did.

Severus glared at the grime-covered fixtures on his sink for the longest time. "Congratulations, Granger," he finally seethed with incredible vitriol. "You're just as fucked as the rest of us."

Severus turned on the tap, allowing the cold water to rinse the basin of his blood. He splashed his face with the cool water in an attempt to calm his nerves. It was a frivolous task that did nothing more than chill him to his core. He needed something stronger than tap water to placate him.

The hard-faced wizard removed his frock coat, tossing it nonchalantly across his modest kitchen table. He didn't bother retrieving a glass from the cupboard, but opted to make a bee-line for his liquor cabinet. He had in mind to pass up the lighter drink selections for his newly-gifted bottle of impressively aged Ogden's Old. Just as Lucius had promised, the finest bottle of Firewhiskey he would ever experience was sitting on the bar. It was covered with an overly extravagant green bow complete with an enchanted snake accent. Severus watched for a few seconds as the silver serpent wound itself around and around the green ribbon, its metal tongue flicking at the fabric. Snape rolled his eyes. Narcissa really needed to find another way to spend her time.

Severus brandished his wand and vanished the ridiculous trappings. Once the bottle was free of any unnecessary trimmings, Severus took it to his chair, settling in to begin the practice of forgetting his first day as a reinstated Hogwarts Professor. That was the last thing Severus could recall until, several hours later, an incessant and particularly irritating knock provoked him from his liquor-induced torpor.

At first, he believed the noise to be the passing rain storm that was currently wrecking havoc on Cokeworth. That thought was quickly flew out the window when the obnoxious rapping increased with fervor. After consulting his old grandfather clock, he realized it was nearing one in the morning. Severus stood up, tucking his wrinkled shirt into his trousers. He kicked his shoes out of the way as sauntered over to his door. Though he was still moderately sloshed, Severus was relieved to see he still possessed the majority of his motor functions.

When he unlatched the door, there, dripping wet and pale as a bone, stood Hermione Granger. The look on her face angered Severus, but not for the reason it should have. He was infuriated because, even though she had brought him into his current situation, she was really not the one to blame. In truth, Hermione was the one true victim and he hated Minerva for placing her in such a predicament.

When she saw his cold expression, Hermione hurriedly diverted her eyes to her soaked shoes. She made neither the effort to let herself in nor shy away from him. The two of them stood there at an impasse of sorts, both of them waiting on the other to act first. "Come in, idiot woman, before you catch cold," Severus growled impatiently. Hermione did as instructed, but offered no indication as to why she was at his house in the middle of the night.

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose out of habit as he searched his liquor-fogged mind for the words to say. "Would you care to explain to me why you are out in the middle of a monsoon at three in the morning— banging on my door no less?"

Hermione's lip quivered, though Severus couldn't tell if it was from the cold or something else. He suspected the latter. "It's Minerva," she said finally.

"What about the old hag?" Severus snapped.

Hermione's melancholy quickly erupted into fury as she shoved Severus up against the wall. Her finger jabbed painfully into his chest with each word that seeped through her clenched teeth. "That old hag is like a mother to me and she is dying, you heartless bastard!

In a swift motion, Severus grabbed the irascible witch by hand and spun her around. Hermione found herself pinned between the wood-paneled wall and Severus's firm torso. She could smell the smoky traces of the bottle of Firewhiskey he polished off as he brought his face level with hers. "Who do you think you are, you ungrateful little twit? You come to my home, behaving like a damned lunatic. Tell me why I shouldn't throw you out on your skinny arse."

Severus expected Hermione to go into a fit of hysterics at his threat; instead she shuddered against him as a violent sob coursed through her entire body. He stepped back only to realize he was the only thing holding her up off the floor. Before he could help it, Severus found himself brining her to her feet and steering her toward the nearest chair. Severus quickly realized that something had gone terribly wrong, and Hermione confirmed his suspensions when she gained her voice. "Poppy has sent for a Healer from St. Mungo's. Minerva's state has declined steadily and at an alarming rate. She is not always lucid, but when she wakes, she asks for you, Severus. I promised to bring you back before it was too late."

Before Severus could say a word, a fresh round of sobs erupted from the trembling woman. She reached out and grasped the fabric of his sleeve, locking it tightly between her fingers. "I have to bring you back. Once she speaks with you, you can go your own way, and I swear to you that you'll never hear from me again. This is the last thing I'm asking of you. Severus, please."

Severus could feel his mind sobering by the second. Although he did not welcome the return to reality, Severus was thankful that he would not be divulging any secrets to Hermione because of his inebriation. He thought for a moment on how to respond to Hermione's request. He had absolutely no desire to see Minerva, but he could not refuse Hermione's request without raising her suspicion as to why. Severus decided, despite his disdain for the situation and everyone involved, that he would return to Hogwarts this final time in order to make sure that Hermione never learned the truth about what Minerva had done. Despite being an almost-constant pain over the past several weeks, Hermione was at least owed the chance to have closure over the death of a close friend.

* * *

"Minerva," Hermione said touching the sleeping woman on the shoulder. "Minerva, I have Severus."

The Headmistress looked up at Hermione through tired eyes, before nodding toward the door. Hermione's brows furrowed with confusion, but Severus managed to answer her next question before she could ask it.

"I believe the Headmistress would like a few moments alone. Go sit with Madam Pomfrey," he ordered. "I will retrieve you when our business is finished."

Hermione squeezed Minerva's hand tightly before taking her leave. When she was out of the room Severus cast a Silencing Charm over the door. He could not risk inadvertently informing Hermione or anyone else of the skeleton hidden in Minerva's cupboard.

Severus positioned the nearby armchair by Minerva's bed before sitting down on its edge. "We're alone," he said curtly. "What is it that you wanted to discuss?"

"Severus, I am truly sorry it has come to this. You were never supposed to know."

"Well, I do and there is nothing that will change that fact," Snape rebuked sternly, though he was fighting a losing battle with himself to be civil at the sight of her. "Stop with the idle chatter, Minerva, and get on with it. Why would you have your dear professor drag me back here?"

A single silent tear rolled down Minerva's cheek, leaving a salty stain on the pillow beneath her head. "Promise me, Severus…promise me you will keep what you know between the two of us."

"Explain to me why I should do such a thing, Minerva? Why should I let that woman standing outside your door wallow in grief that you do not deserve?"

"Because you are a decent man, and you will do what's right by that woman standing in the hall."

"How can you lie there and ask this of me; after everything you have done?"

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but I do expect you to see what I have to show you." Minerva's arm extended slowly to the far corner of the room. Severus eyes followed and he saw, sitting in the corner, the Pensieve that once belonged to Albus Dumbledore. "My reasons, my justification; it's all there. But I must ask you to never speak of this with Hermione. What lies in the basin deals with her, Severus. She would not take kindly to having such things publicized."

"Then why show it to me?" he asked as he went to where it stood.

"I would think it obvious," Minerva whispered. "So you will see why I did what I did. Perhaps then, you'll understand."

Severus found himself standing in the middle of Hermione's personal chambers. Hermione sat, propped up in her bed, looking as if a Dementor was floating above her head. Minerva, who was there for obvious support sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on Hermione's socked foot. It was quite plain from the expression on her face that the young witch was deeply troubled. Severus inched closer so as to hear her quite voice as it fell from her trembling lips.

_"Why is this allowed to happen, Minerva? Why are people allowed to feel this lonely? In a world filled to the brim with people it doesn't feel like this is supposed to happen."_

_"I'm afraid that is just the way the world works, my dear," Minerva replied with a weak smile._

_"It doesn't make any sense to me; it doesn't make sense to me that there are countless people in this world, most of them searching for someone, yet I can't seem to find a single one of them. It consumes me and it scares me, Minerva. It feels as if the very air I breathe is a thousand tiny needles, each one of them digging painfully into my insides."_

_A tear ran down her cheek, but Hermione made no effort to brush it away. "I have never felt this alone. After all I have been through; after everything I've seen, this feels the worst."_

_Minerva released a ragged breath as she stood. "It only feels that way because you allow it."_

_"It is the only thing I can feel! This, whatever it is, has taken hold of me and I can't shake it!"_

_"That is because you haven't tried," Minerva said, a sense of pleading in her voice. "Hermione, I have known you for most of your life. I know that you will rise above this and I know it scares you senseless because you can feel a grief that runs deep that it seems catastrophic, but you cannot let it eat away at you. Do you understand me? Your parents are gone and it is so deeply horrible that they were ripped from you like they were, but there is nothing you can do to change that fact. And you certainly shouldn't blame yourself, as I can clearly see that you are doing."_

_"It isn't just my mother and father, Minerva. Don't you understand? I have lost the only friends I have ever known. My God," Hermione said, struggling to maintain what little composure she had, "I have no one in my life anymore and it is entirely my fault."_

_"You have Hogwarts, Hermione. You have friends here. You have me, how can you not see that? You are not truly alone, child, even though it feels as if you are."_

_"I asked them, Minerva; I sought them out to help me and they refused."_

_"You asked who to do what?"_

_"My so-called friends," Hermione scoffed. "I wrote to them after it happened, all three of them, and because of what happened between Ron and I, it was like I didn't even exist to them anymore. Ron's letter was returned unopened. And Harry and Ginny, though they offered their condolences, seemed rigid and cut-off—almost like it was beneath them to respond. I know they are angry with me for the decision I made about Ron, but I never expected to be treated that way by them."_

_"It is their loss, Hermione."_

_"No it isn't," the younger witch said as she closed her eyes. Two giant tears seeped from between her closed lids and fell silently to her lap. "They have lost nothing. I can guarantee you that they are not the least bit burdened about it and it angers me to no end that they make me feel this way, yet they go about their lives as if nothing has happened."_

_"Perhaps it is for the best that you have this distance. You have been through something that only you can deal with. You need time to sort yourself straight. This could be a blessing in disguise..."_

Severus emerged from the Pensieve, never displaying the immense sense of pity he suddenly felt for his former student. Instead, he walked straight to the seat he had deserted moments before and sat down heavily, clearly deep in thought. Minerva's quite voice jolted him back to reality.

"Shortly after Weasley and Hermione parted ways, her parents were involved in a horrific Muggle accident. Some other Muggle, who was also operating an automobile, smashed into the side of their car while they were stopped at a junction near Sydney."

"Why were they in Australia?"

"Hermione sent them there in an effort to keep them safe during the Dark Lord's rise for power."

"I had no idea."

"Not many people know of it. Hermione is a strong person, Severus; stronger than you give her credit for. She puts of a brave face in the limelight but on the inside she has her demons. The poor child slipped into a depression deeper than I could have imagined. There were weeks where she would sleep the days away. She would refuse any and all company. When I finally managed to get Mister Potter here, Hermione gave him a good verbal thrashing and sent him on his way. He hasn't been back since that time and she hasn't made mention of her former friends. The staff and I thought she would never come out of it; she wouldn't have, I don't believe, had I not made the decision to do what I did. So now you see why. Now you know the reasons behind my deceit. Now you know why you can never say anything, Severus, because Hermione deserves better than that."

Severus didn't respond, his mind elsewhere. Severus looked away from her, unable to take the sight of the woman. In truth, every time the subject was broached, Severus could clearly see Death looking right at him in his mind's eye.

_"You shall know the soul I speak of because he will do what you ask of him without question and without hesitation._.' He had recited those words to himself during his drunken evening, but he could not deny the truth that lay hidden between the words. Severus couldn't explain it, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to know the reasoning behind his decision, but he had made one nonetheless. He would inevitably do what Minerva was asking of him. Severus stood steadfastly by the notion that he was responsible for his decisions, but everything Death had said to Minerva was falling into place. He could not refute that he was standing right in the middle of it. "I will keep your bloody secret, but let me make one thing perfectly clear to you: I refuse to do it for you."

"I don't want you to do it for me," Minerva managed, her voice suddenly sounding strained.

Severus, who had turned his attention to the stifling fire burning in the firebox, whipped his head around to spot the blank look that had taken hold of the Headmistress's features. He bolted from his seat, fearing she had finally succumbed. His earnest concern was met with an ear-shattering scream that nearly made him fall over from the sheer fright. He watched on, completely helpless as a sudden crippling seizure consumed Minerva. Severus brought two strong, steadying hands to the witch's shoulders, but that did nothing to stop the violent tremor coursing through her.

The loud commotion would have been enough to summon the Hogwarts Matron and the Healer from the sitting room, but the Silencing Charm Severus had cast over the bedroom door was blocking every sound from escaping beyond the room. He turned with haste to retrieve the Mediwizard, but a subtle hum stopped his progress. Severus looked back at Minerva to spot a soft iridescent glow to her skin. He backed up slowly in the direction of the door, as the soft glow intensified into a noticeable light.

Without warning, a brilliant blinding white light flooded the room and in that same instance, Severus found himself being flung up against the stone wall that stood several feet away. The powerful ejection of Minerva's magic had blasted him across the room, knocking the wind from his lungs as his back connected with the unforgiving stone.

He pulled himself up off the floor as he surveyed the disarray. That was when he spotted it. It must have been plucked from its hiding spot when Minerva's magic discharged. He prodded the object with his foot as if it would reach out and drag him to the deepest pits of Hell. Sitting right-side up on the floor, glimmering with wicked foreboding, was the sandglass given to Minerva by Death itself. The white sand was trickling from the top bulb, but when it passed through the connecting tube, it turned as black as coal. Severus regarded the blackened-sand resting in the bottom bulb, feeling an intense knot form in his throat. If the hourglass was an accurate measurement, Minerva's time among the living was running out.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The excerpt from the _Tale of the Three Brothers_ was taken directly from chapter twenty-one of _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_. No copyright infringement is intended and I am fully aware that those words were not of my mind, but of J.K Rowling's.

Meladara and Desigrl, the two of you are simply fabulous. Readers, without you, this wouldn't be nearly as fun. I can't thank you enough for the time you've spent reading my silly little hobby. That said, your thoughts and your reviews are welcomed, and greatly appreciated. Go forth and read, my friends!


	7. Of Things to Come

**Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**  
Of Things To Come

Severus opened his eyes, unsure for a moment why he had even woken up. As he gained awareness of his surroundings, he was displeased to learn of the stiff neck he had developed from sleeping upright in what he deemed the most uncomfortable chair known to man. He absently rubbed the back of his neck as he looked out into the darkness. His eyes desperately tried to make out the shapes hidden amongst the shadows, but his sensitive hearing told him all he needed to know. The sound of the dying embers in the firebox and the ticking of the old clock that sat on the mantel piece was the only sound he could hear. It was a peaceful, serene moment, but it carried a certain melancholy he could not deny. It was as if the castle was preparing itself for the departure of the woman lying just a few feet from him.

Following the violent outburst Minerva had only hours before, it was decided that the Headmistress would be monitored in shifts. Hermione and Severus had agreed to take the first scheduled time, considering the Minerva had been given a very powerful dosage of the Reversion Draught. The Healer assured both of them that the Headmistress and those in close proximity to her would be perfectly safe to stay at Hogwarts. Truthfully, they had been advised by Poppy and the Healer that taking her to St. Mungo's would have been for nothing as they were simply playing the waiting game at this juncture. It was a hard truth to swallow, but Minerva's fate was securely out of their hands.

Severus closed his eyes again, this time bringing both hands to his eyes to relieve some of the pressure from the beginnings of a tension headache. He looked to the chair sitting beside him, expecting to see Hermione sound asleep as he had left her. It was that time when he noticed his companion was not sitting beside him, but instead perched on the side of Minerva's bed. Hermione's knees were tucked under her chin with her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her pose reminded Severus of the student she had been some fourteen years ago—so incredibly vulnerable and desperately young. In the face of all that she had endured and witnessed in her life, Hermione Granger was affected by even the most peaceful of deaths. Severus considered speaking to her, but he thought better of it when Hermione spoke softly herself.

"You're all I've got left, Minerva," she whispered hoarsely. From the sound of her voice it was clear she had been crying. "You have to pull through this. There are so many people that depend on you, so many people that need you." Hermione reached for Minerva's pale hand, holding on to it as if it was some terribly precious gift. The younger witch looked absently toward the wall behind the headboard of Minerva's bed, obviously fighting a losing battle with her tears. A quiet sob erupted from her as she shuddered to keep herself quite. "I have failed you, Minerva. I have failed you and it kills me because in all of the years I have known you, you have never once let me fall by the wayside. You deserved so much better from me and I couldn't give it to you. I wonder if I could have done something differently, if I could have worked harder—if that would have really made a difference."

Severus anger for the dying old woman was nearly as strong as the sudden desire to console the woman sobbing over her. "Hermione, it would not have made a difference," Severus finally said, unable to accept listening to her berate herself any longer.

Hermione's head whipped around at the sound of his voice. She hurriedly wiped an errant tear from her face as if she was embarrassed of being caught. "I'm sorry, Severus. I didn't mean to wake you."

Though the room was dimly lit, Severus could easily see the evidence of her sorrow. Hermione's reddened tear-stained cheeks only added to her naivety. What angered him the most, however, was not the fact that she was poignant, but rather that she had been forced into such a state by the selfishness of a woman who did not deserve her tears. Snape was livid with Minerva because someone of her aptitude and judgment should have known better than to have brought something like this upon herself and her young protégé.

Severus repositioned himself in the worn leather chair, ignoring her apology entirely. "You need to stop this nonsense. What is happening to Minerva is out of our control. Do you understand that? It is out of your control and you must accept that fact."

Hermione hesitated, looking to her bare feet dangling off the edge of the bed, as she struggled to find the proper words. "I have lost so many of the people I love. Sometime I wonder why I even bother allowing myself to get close to others. They seem to get ripped away from me when I need them most and it is beyond my control. I know it sounds stupid and childish and I should know better, but sometimes I don't think I will ever truly be able to bear that burden alone."

Before Severus could even fathom a response to such a statement Hermione interrupted his thoughts. "How do you manage it? And please don't misinterpret my question as thoughtless or overly intrusive. I only ask because I am in awe of your level-headedness. You have known Minerva longer than I have been alive, and yet your grief doesn't smother you. It rolls off you like water from a duck's back."

Under normal circumstances, Severus would have rebuked anyone for asking such a personal question. However, the honest curiosity and sincerity radiating from his former student's blood shot tired eyes willed him to provide her with a genuinely honest response. "For the longest time, my anguish over the decisions I've made in my life haunted me. I saw grief as an emotion I hated because I felt it was a terribly weak feeling to have. I kept it to myself. That sorrow that I so foolishly confused for a weak emotion ate at me from the inside like a worm hollows out an apple. It carved intricately complex pathways through me, and left what you see sitting before you to this very day. I am an overly complicated man, Hermione, but it is entirely by my doing."

"You are not a hard person to like, if that is what you are insinuating," she said with a slight smile as she returned to the seat by his side.

"I happen to disagree," Severus said as he stretched his long legs out in front of oh him, "but I'm afraid you are missing the point. You see, I thought I had to bear the burden you described, because I felt that if I shared my grief with others, it would seem as if I was asking for pity and consolation from them. People have a way of disappointing you when you need them most, and when you open yourself up to needing something from someone—no matter what it is—you will most assuredly never receive it."

A somber silence filled the air between them as they weighed the complexity and the truth of the of Severus's statement. The revealing fact was not that people have great capacity to love, but rather an even greater capacity to hurt, most often during times when they are called upon to feel the most compassion, but fail to do so for whatever underlying agenda or reason. Severus wasn't sure if Hermione realized what he had just said, but the brutal truth of his own words revealed something he had failed to take into consideration regarding himself. Never, in the fifty-two years of his life, had he spoken truer words to describe himself. Now, given the current circumstances surrounding him, Severus could clearly see that he had attempted to prove his own epiphany. The time when someone needed him the most, Severus found himself looking for any excuse he could fathom to walk away.

_'Those who love you will pine for your life, but they will also gain the friendship of someone who can give them what you and others cannot_.' Severus had recited that particular proclamation from Death over and over in his head, and the spectre's meaning was growing increasingly clear. Much to his horror, he realized the last month had been completely out of his control. The day he stepped foot in the castle was the day he had become a part of Hermione's life. The day Minerva spoke with Death was the day Death altered not just her and Hermione's paths, but Severus's as well.

Severus's train of thought was interrupted by a soft gasp coming from across the room. He glanced towards Minerva's bed. The headmistress stirred, but not in the manner that would have immediately caused alarm. The movement was slight, much like the twitching of her fingers or the curling of her toes. It gave no reason for concern except that a small sound of ache escaped her lips. Hermione went to her bedside, but Severus's eyes had locked firmly on Death's sandglass. The white sand was gone, having passed through the sieve to the bottom crystal bulb. The blackened granules lay unmoving in the hourglass, taunting Severus with the awful truth they represented. As he watched the hourglass with disdain, Severus noticed a faint white glow coming from what he believed to be the inside of the glass. He leaned forward in his chair, squinting at the hourglass, noticing it was not coming from the object itself, but rather from Minerva. His eyes trailed from the reflection to the woman lying on the bed.

Minerva was lay perfectly still, her hands knotted in the flannel sheets covering the bed. Her gaze was directed at the ceiling, though her eyes had been taken over by glossiness. A white glow was forming in Minerva's chest. Hermione and Severus watched as the glow got brighter and brighter before beginning to dissipate into the air surrounding Minerva.

"Minerva," Hermione pleaded, her voice teetering on the edge of control. "Minerva, please!"

Severus did not turn to face Hermione but instead kept his eyes locked on Minerva. He knew what was happening and that there was nothing either of them could do to prevent it.

Hermione whisked around to Severus, her eyes wide with panic and dismay. "What's happening to her?! You've got to do something! Anything!"

Severus's expression did not change. He simply looked into Hermione's eyes for a moment before delivering the news. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice cracking uncharacteristically, "but there's nothing to do. She's gone."

Hermione was immediately dissolved into a fit of tears. "No, she can't be! She can't die! Severus, please!" Before Severus knew it, Hermione had grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and pressed her face into his chest. She was clearly devastated, just as Severus had known she would be. He could feel her tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He had no idea what to do to attempt to console the young woman. Luckily for him, Hermione's cries had attracted the attention of Poppy Pomfrey, who had been on her way to check on Minerva. She entered the room and immediately knew what had happened. She took the sobbing young witch into her arms and began to comfort her.

"How did it happen, Severus?" the Matron asked as she held Hermione close to her.

"She's gone. A light formed in her chest, disappeared, and she was gone." As Poppy turned her attention back to Hermione, Severus went to the desk in the corner room and began writing on a sheet of parchment. "Funeral arrangements will have to be made soon," he said. "Minister Shacklebolt will also want to know of Minerva's passing. I'll send an owl to him."

Invisible to the others in the room, Minerva watched the scene play out from across the room. Momentarily, she was joined by a white, ghost-like figure. Minerva's eyes filled with rage as she turned toward the one responsible for the sorrow she was beholding. "This was not what I wanted!" Minerva shrieked at Death. "Look at her! Look at what I've done…what you forced me to do!"

Death's eyes narrowed at Minerva's insolence, though she did not speak. Instead, she held her ground surveying the devastation she had left in her wake.

"She is broken," Minerva whispered to herself. "She is broken and it is entirely your doing."

Death stepped forward, coming to stand directly behind Hermione and Poppy. She studied the distraught witch for a moment before turning to Minerva. "You dare accuse me of not upholding my end of the bargain?" Death growled her ice-blue eyes boring into Minerva's.

"That is exactly what I'm implying," Minerva spat. "Look at her and tell me that you have helped her! She is in pieces!"

Death looked at Minerva with a frightening wildness behind her eyes—similar to the way a wolf would eye a wounded deer. "Dear woman, you have much to learn of the ways of this world. You may have been wise beyond your years during your life, but you are truly an ignorant fool. You are no different from any other human on this earth. You roam this world frozen with your rage, your hatred, and your self-pity, but you never once stop to look at life in its entirety. Death is never unfair. Every soul must experience death, despair, or whatever foul name you choose to call it. They must face those tragedies so that they may never ever forget what it feels like to have compassion for others. They must taste the terrible pain of misfortune because, without the bitter taste of loss coating every fiber of their being, they would never feel their emptiness being made whole."

"How dare you stand there, claiming to see the silver lining of this damned storm cloud?" Minerva shot back, the ire in her voice rising by the second.

"I claim it because I have seen it!" Death roared. "Your thinking is preposterous if you believed her life would magically mend itself together straight away. Hermione Granger has been given the thing she needs to set her path straight. He is sitting in this very room."

"Severus knows of my misdeeds. He would n—"

"But yet he stays," Death interrupted, having finally lost her patience with the matter. "That is enough bickering, Minerva. Your time here is over. We must go now."

Minerva was tempted to protest but knew that Death would not be persuaded. She gave one last look at the friends she was leaving behind. She hoped that Hermione especially would get over her grief quickly. After all, her happiness was the only reason Minerva had undertaken this foolhardy endeavor. Minerva turned to Death. "Lead the way, then." Death grabbed Minerva's hand and the two of them were gone, leaving only a corpse behind as solace to the mourners in the room.

Following Minerva's passing, the rest of the weeks classes were suspended in preparation for her internment service. The normal hustle and bustle of attending classes, earning and losing of house points, and the excitement Quidditch matches had been replaced with an air of solemnity. The castle itself, thanks in part to the nearly torrential rain and fog that had settled over Scotland, had grown exceedingly cold and grey. The chill seemed to seep from the walls, permeating into the inhabitants of the castle. The student's, apart from meal times, had holed themselves up in their common rooms as the staff prepared the grounds for the memorial service.

For Hermione, the days following Minerva's death seemed to pass in a blur. She busied herself with seeing to Minerva's affairs. She relished the distraction because it was during the downtimes that she struggled to keep her head above the flooding torrents of grief that threatened to pull her under. Nights were often the worst, as she often woke in a fit from the nightmare of Minerva's soul leaving her.

Hermione would have never mentioned this fact to him, but she often found herself being drawn to Severus when thoughts of Minerva popped into her head. The two of them danced the same dance every night. Like clockwork, Hermione would show up at his rooms to discuss something that could have waited until the morning. Conversations would always change course, resulting in several empty tea pots and a sleeping witch curled up on Severus's settee hours later. Hermione would always be gone when Severus emerged from his bed, having left a hastily written note of apology for intruding. Severus would have never admitted it, but having Hermione visit his rooms each night, played the deciding factor in terms of his own steps moving forward.

As co-deputies, Hermione and Severus had been sporadically meeting with the Board of Governors to discuss the plan moving forward. Just as he had intended, Severus had helped with the search of a new Potions professor by compiling a list of applicants he deemed appropriate and worthy of such a position. Interviews, he said, would be conducted once the Headmistress's affairs were set in order and he insisted that he would see to them personally as his last act as co-deputy. When Hermione learned of his intention to leave his post as co-deputy and Potions professor she did not press him on the issue, considering he had already done more than he had original agreed to in the first place. Hermione was, of course, unaware of his true intentions for leaving both posts.

Severus, having once held the post as Headmaster, had been offered the position again by the Governors and had accepted the offer on his own accord. He did not completely understand why he had come to that decision, other than the fact it simply felt like it was where he needed to be. The look he received from Hermione when he informed her of his acceptance was one of relief and legitimate shock. The two of them began making preparations for Minerva's funeral which was to be held on the grounds at Hogwarts.

Four days after Minerva's death, Hogwarts was abuzz with commotion as witches and wizards from all over packed the grounds for Minerva's funeral. Snape stood at the podium, a lump in his throat, as he waited for everyone to take their seats. As soon as they had, he welcomed them to Hogwarts in his official capacity and said a few words about his former friend and colleague. He kept his words brief and quickly seized the opportunity to turn over speaking duties to Hermione.

"At this time, I give you Professor Hermione Granger, Deputy Headmistress and close personal friend to our former Headmistress." Hermione stood from her seat and walked solemnly to the podium.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said offering a weak smile to Severus. She turned to the crowd of mourners that had assembled in the Room of Requirement. Hermione's eyes swept the horde nervously. She spied the Minister of Magic, Kingsly Shacklebolt, sitting in the front row alongside Harry and Ginny Potter. Next to his sister sat Ron Weasley, who was looking at the toe of his boot. Near the back of the room she spotted Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. They had most likely been invited by Severus. The Malfoys kept to the shadows to avoid being noticed, and would most likely slip back through the door before Hermione would have a chance to thank them for everything they had done for her—and for Minerva.

The thought of Minerva brought a pang of sadness over her, but Hermione had promised herself she would hold it together long enough to escape the public eye. She had asked Severus if she could give the remarks about Minerva, and he had agreed wholeheartedly that that task should fall to no one but her. Hermione had spent the better part of the previous day finding the right words to say to the horde of mourners before Severus finally intervened. He read over what she had written and promptly sealed the parchment to prevent Hermione from toiling anxiously over it. She broke the green seal of Severus's approval that contained her eulogy to the former Headmistress and began to read.

"People should never be forced to come together under these dreadful circumstances, but alas, we find ourselves here nonetheless. Although the heavy shroud of grief has been draped over each and every one of us, we must never forget that death is not what brought us together this day, but life. Death, I have come to realize, is terribly undeviating, but I do not believe it deserves the title of permanency. Life may not be permanent in the sense that we will walk this Earth forever, but when a beloved friend passes beyond the Veil, the question we need to ask ourselves is do they truly stop living?"

Hermione paused momentarily to gather her bearings. The bleak silence that radiated from the crowd was beginning to weigh heavily on her shoulders, making Hermione feel as if her knees would buckle from the immense pressure. She was quickly discovering that there were two entirely different types of silences. This silence was nothing of what one would find should they walk into a service at some stuffy overly-velveted funeral parlor. This silence was terrifying and all-consuming. This was the same silence Hermione had endured when she sat alone in her room shortly after she learned her parents had been savagely ripped away from her. This was the same silence she believed she would never defeat. Hermione grasped the sides of the podium until her knuckles felt as if they would burst open. Had it not been for the nod of a certain black-clad wizard, she wasn't sure she would have ever found her voice above the deafening stillness.

"Does a person stop living once his or her body grows weary from their journey? Does a person cease to exist in this world when they draw their last breath? Does a person who is placed beneath the cold, unforgiving ground leave you forever? While the presumed response would seem apparent, I can tell you that I have discovered that the truthful answer is most definitely no. And the answer is no because that loved one continues to live on within each and every single one of us. This fact is no less true for Minerva McGonagall."

A wayward tear slipped from Hermione's eye, falling to the parchment she held in her hands. She watched it roll down the page, picking up ink as it went. With each word the drop passed, she could feel the pain in her chest grow, like someone was slowly prodding her with a needle. This was the part Hermione secretly dreaded because it would make it devastatingly clear that Minerva was truly gone.

"Minerva may never be able to see the light of a precious new day, but we have been fortunate enough to receive the gift of remembering her for the selfless woman she was. We will remember her kindness the same as we will remember her sternness and her unmistakable bravery. We will remember those things because they have shaped us and molded us into the people we are to this very today. Although we may not be able to pinpoint the exact instances where this woman impacted us, we know they are there. And it is because we know that those parts of her are within us that we have assembled here to honour her memory."

Hermione turned her eyes from the lamenters to the wrought iron stand that had been placed beside the podium. The stand held what was clearly a portrait covered by a red and gold satin cloth. "As most of you know, it is customary for each Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts to have a portrait commissioned in their honor upon their death. These portraits hang in the Headmaster's office and provide assistance and counsel to all subsequent Headmasters. This is simply one more way in which Minerva McGonagall's influence will live on." Hermione brandished her wand, pointed it at the portrait and flourished it. The cloth vanished, revealing a stunning likeness of Minerva within an intricately carved frame. Hermione swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. It was at once both joyful and painful to see Minerva's face once again as she remembered it before Minerva had taken ill and Hermione had been forced to watch the life slowly leave her. In her portrait, Minerva looked strong and vibrant, and Hermione was glad to see that the portrait artist had captured Minerva's essence so accurately. Even though there was incredible sadness in her heart and a gnawing desire to fall to pieces, seeing Minerva's face suddenly gave Hermione a strength she hadn't known she possessed.

"This portrait is only an echo of the woman it depicts, but it is our memories, our experiences, and our time shared together that will make the portrait whole. Though I only had the privilege of knowing Minerva a short time, there is perhaps no one who has done more to shape me into the person I am today. This portrait may portray Minerva's likeness, but it fails to capture how truly lovely she was. Minerva embodied all that is good in this world and I'm positive that most of you would attest to this fact. She was uncommonly caring, thoughtful, hardworking, impressively brave, and, above all else, steadfastly compassionate to those in her life. It is this compassion that I will always remember. It is this undying spirit of empathy that gives me hope for things to come. Minerva not only showed me unwavering compassion in a time when I needed it the most, but she graciously instilled that virtue within me."

From his seat, Severus watched Hermione, secretly thankful that every other set of eyes was fixed solely on her. The eulogy she had prepared was more than adequate to honor his former friend, but listening to her present it to the crowd was an entirely different pill to swallow. Hermione spoke highly of Minerva, but that was because she did not know the truth. The truth, Severus realized, would be enough to send her completely over the edge. Hermione was, as Severus liked to describe her, a dark cloud swelling with rain. He was not entirely sure how much more she could handle in her life before she burst wide open. Severus had decided that he would never divulge to Hermione the real reason for Minerva's passing because, as Minerva had said, it would undo everything she had endured. Severus decided it would be a terrible injustice to infringe upon Hermione's lasting memory, considering it was all she had left of her mentor and maternal figure. So there he sat, silently watching Hermione pour her heart out to someone who, in Severus's opinion, was undeserving of any such tribute.

"I have seen countless people pass beyond the Veil in my thirty-two years of life. I have seen them surrounded by their loved ones as they take their last breaths and I have seen those same loved ones thrust into the cold, solitary land of sorrow. In this cold desolate space, surrounded by the frigid sting of grief and despair, we often think there is nothing for us to do but shiver until we feel as if we shall die from our own sadness. What we fail to realize is that a loved one's story does not end when their body waivers. It is transformed. We meander in and out of each other's lives, but it is this wandering that ties us all together. It is our experiences, it is our memories; it is our lives shared together on the fabric of time that truly binds us. If I have anything to leave you with it is this: our connection with Minerva is not gone. Do not do her an injustice by only remembering her death. Do what is right by her and remember her life. Remember her for the strong-willed, compassionate person she is and most importantly, hold tight to those parts of her that have implanted themselves within us, because it is with those pieces that she will truly live on. "

Hermione ended her speech and took her seat next to Severus. She half-listened as Kingsley Shacklebolt delivered some remarks about Minerva's contributions to the Wizarding world followed by a farewell song sung by the Hogwarts choir. After the service had concluded, the mourners who had gathered began to socialize and reminisce about Minerva. Hermione saw several familiar faces and did her best to smile politely and keep her composure as she was hugged and consoled by countless people. Hermione was attempting to pull herself away from the crowd when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Hermione turned around to see Ron Weasley was the one who tapped her on the shoulder. She hadn't seen him for nearly two years, but she could feel the stinging jolt of their past come over her. The wizard smiled at her ruefully as he pulled her toward him in an awkward hug. "You look good, Hermione. How have you been?"

"I'm well enough, thank you. What about yourself? How has the Ministry been treating you?"

"I'm alright and work is going well. Of course, when your boss is your best friend that tends to take a bit of the pressure off…" Ron trailed off, looking to the floor. That was the only clue Hermione needed to guess what he was about so say something he felt was important. "Look, I'm going to get right to it. I know we haven't talked in a while, but I just wanted to let you know I've talked to some of my contacts at St. Mungo's. I can get you counseling if you need it. I know how things like this get you overly upset."

Hermione could sense the white-hot flush creeping across her face as her Ron's condescending words sank in. She wasn't sure what surprised her the most, the fact that he took it upon himself to seek out aide for her or the fact that he genuinely thought she needed it.

"Ron, I don't feel like now is the time to discuss this," Hermione said, trying to stifle the anger that was growing beneath her calm façade. "While I appreciate your concern, I hardly think it is appropriate or merited."

Severus, who was quietly conversing to a fellow mourner some few feet away, felt the bile rise from deep within him when he heard Weasley's proposal. He spun around to see that Ron and cornered her. By the look on her face, it was plain to see she was struggling to maintain her composure. "Mister Weasley, might I suggest you take your asinine suggestion elsewhere. Miss Granger is not in need of any of the so called services you may have access to."

Ron's face turned a wonderful shade of green as he recognized the voice coming from behind him. "Headmaster Snape," the red head managed. "I meant no disrespect , it's just I know how Hermione get's all bent out of shape when things like this happen."

"All bent out of shape?" Severus repeated. "Weasley, you refer to Miss Granger as if she is some sort of simpleton. If she says she doesn't need your help, then she does not need your help."

The sickly shade of green plaguing Ron's complexion turned nearly as red as the hair covering his head. "Now you wait a minute, Snape! What gives you the right to speak for her? You don't even like her!"

"Let me stop you right there, Ronald," Hermione interrupted, "Severus doesn't speak for me and you certainly don't either. He has been there for me throughout this entire ordeal which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you. Furthermore, I don't appreciate any handouts you try to throw at me. Let me make this crystal clear: I don't need your help and I'm perfectly okay by myself. Now, if you'll excuse me…" she trailed off, turning to flee from his smothering presence.

Ron reached out and grabbed the sleeve of her dress robes. "Don't touch me!" Hermione hissed as she shook herself free from his grasp. "And for the record, you have once again confused and mixed up everything in the same pathetic, careless way you always do. I have neither the energy nor the inclination to explain to you the depths that you have just brought yourself in my eyes, but I can tell you this, Ronald Weasley: I would sooner throw myself beneath the moving wheels of the Hogwarts Express before I accept any help you try to offer me."

Ron blanched at the deathly severe look directed at him, his own agitation growing as the seconds ticked by. "What is that supposed to mean!?" he spat, his voice full of incredulity. "I was only trying to help—"

Severus's lip twitched with delight as he mentally pictured Hermione's well -placed insult bouncing around inside Weasley's dimwitted hollow head. He simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to drive the point home. "Mister Weasley, I believe she just gave you the shortened directions leading straight to Hell."

Ron started to speak again but was cut off. "I believe Miss Granger is finished with this conversation, Mister Weasley. I would advise you to calmly walk away. I'm not sure what she will do to you if you open your trap again, but I assure that I won't restrain her."

Ron stood with a blank stare on his face for a few seconds before turning and walking back toward Harry and Ginny. Hermione looked up at Severus, "Thanks. I'm not sure what I would have done either, but it probably would have resulted in some bad public relations for Hogwarts."

Severus offered a slight smile as he grabbed Hermione's arm and steered her toward the exit. "I don't know about you, but I've had enough of this for one day. I just had a bottle of Ogden's Old delivered yesterday. Care to join me?"

Hermione surveyed the room once more. Perhaps she should stay, she thought, but the thought of putting on a smile for one second longer repulsed her. She had found solace in the one person she never expected, she wasn't about to let that slip through her fingers. "Absolutely, I'd love to. Lead the way," she answered. With that, the two of them exited the room, leaving behind the past in prospect of what was to come.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Writing, I have come to find, is a journey in and of its self—the worst part of it being the moment you put pen to paper. My journey down this particular road has been a long one, but I have not walked it alone. I would like to extend a special thanks to Meladara and Desigrl. This story shines because of them. Desi, you made sense of my nonsense and I cannot thank you enough. To Me, I would have never made it without you. I am forever in your debt and the only gift I can offer you is this story. This is dedicated to you, Mel. You've certainly earned it.

Jenidralph, you have mad skills, my dear! The artwork you created for this story is absolutely incredible. It was an honor to collaborate with you and I can't wait for people to see what you were able to do.

kerravonsen, thank you for suggesting a prompt that literally drove my Muse wild. I hope this story lives up to your expectations.

**_Finally, I would like to thank all of you who read and review. You are the reason I do this—that, and keeping Severus Snape alive and well. Thank you for your time and your reviews. Your words are like gold to me._**


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